Shiver
by A Phantom Moon
Summary: Christine only sings when she is alone. But one day she's caught, By a man with fire burning in his eyes..AU.EC
1. Chapter 1

9/14/05: I am re-vamping Shiver, fixing mistakes and redirecting the fiction. For those of you that are new to this story, mind the rating, please. This story is very unconventional, realistic, and depressing.

For my old friends, the musical element will be brought down a bit, and the spelling is fixed. There will most likely be a few more chapters put in, and maybe a new twist or two for you. Please forgive the formatting, but it was the only way.

* * *

:.The Brightest Spark.:

* * *

" _**In a sunrise of burning stop signs"**_

* * *

She could hear nothing as she spoke the lines of her poem, the rest of the class giving her a silence every other member did not receive. She knew why.. 

Flipping the curls from her eyes, she moved on to the next line. Let them think what they wanted.She honestly didn't care anymore.

* * *

**_"Tomorrow's rising like a ghost from the graveyard of wishes_**"

* * *

She felt her red and black sweat-suit hang off of her form, but for some reason, it seemed like she was naked, bearing the scrutiny of her hardest audience. They stared right at her, as if they awaited the pleasure of sating their curiousity for the longest time.

* * *

_**"It's spirit busting through prison fences, Flooding the street with a sea of ski masks marching from our ditches"**_

* * *

Her cold indigo eyes stared as she whispered the lines she had worked so hard on. How did they expect her to speak when she felt like a damn lab rat with a ten pound tumor? All she wanted to do was get this over with, return to her seat, and get those damn eyes off of her. Those eyes that pierced her.

* * *

"**_A new morning as bright as the smallest spark in the darkest dark_**"

* * *

The only one not diverting their attentionwas the only one as strange as she. 

Young Meg Giry,hereyes glued to her desk,little cheeks flaming a bright red color. The girl had been born with… unnerving eyes. The black in her pupil looked like ink someone had spilled, as it swirled with the blue of her irises. It reminded Christine of preschoolers who mix two different paint colors together. She was an outcast because of it, only a few friends who could look past the oddity.

* * *

"_**Warm as lovers in mid kiss, It's wishes whisper between lovers lips**_"

* * *

She felt her voice choke at those lines.. It was symbolic, and yet the thought of all those eyes watching her lips as she said "lovers" was almost too much. Gripping her paper with white knuckled fingers, she gathered her strength for the next stanza. Her other hand was fisted at her side, dark blue fingernails digging into her tiny palms.

* * *

"**_When I close my eyes I can see the ghost unearth her life,_** "

* * *

Yes.. Her mothers ghost, her fathers ghost, it was all the same, wasn't it? Perhaps even the ghost of her old self. 

She felt Chagny's eyes stray from her face to her figure. Breath, Christine,. Just breath. They can't hurt you.. Your safe here.. Nobody's going to die. Give them a reason to feel stupid, and don't let them win. Keep speaking.

* * *

"_**On never nights like tonight,When daybreak defies midnight"**_

* * *

She felt calm now, letting the thought of darkness sooth her torn soul. Night, nobody can see you, nobody will see your tears. Night is when the fear draws back, and dreams descend. Not that her dreams were any more pleasant then her days But only when the sun would shine.. That was when the eyes would return, melting her courage. Those eyes that pleaded with her to understand. Those murdering eyes.

* * *

_**" With the backing of the shovels beat, Burning flags at her feet, crackling over the young lovers lead"**_

* * *

Yes, it was having the desired effect. Even the mention of flag burning had them all looking frazzled. Those poor unfortunate souls. Even Miss Levine looked thoroughly angered. Well, they could shove it. The government had screwed her. She was a victim, and they just let her get fucked over. Oh, wait, keep reading, or they might suspect something. Remember, no slip-ups.

* * *

"**_She screams: Lovers of the world unite, there's no tomorrow, only tonight"_**

* * *

Oh, look, I think they are getting the point of this exercise. Yes, yes, I AM mocking you all. You can't hurt me here, you can't say anything. This is my turn to speak, and if you stop me, it just means I have won. And if I was for once the victor, you would be terribly upset, wouldn't you?

* * *

_**"It's time for a new day to break,From the dead dreams we awake**_"

* * *

Dead dreams. It was a good line. Dead dad dreams. Dead mom dreams. Dead Daae dreams, running through Lotte's head. She had always hated that nickname, it made her life sound like a fairytale. 

No such thing as a happy ending for Lotte's story though. No such thing. And now, time for the last piece. Time to end this little mutiny.

* * *

**_"Like a mute speaking, seizing his say,  
Tomorrow ,Come Today"_**

* * *

She waited for applause, and after a few minutes of hushed whispers, she strode back to her seat, holding her head high. Fucking morons. 

They didn't get it, did they? They thought she was crazy for hating everything. Well, why not hate everything, when the world gave nothing? Nothing but a public high school, free lunch, and a nice cozy group home .A home full of strangers, full of what used to be innocent children. A residence of spectres, out of sync with the rest of the world.

Meg watched her take her seat, before catching Miss Levine's end of class blabbing.  
" Tomorrow I would like you to write a poem, a poem about a wedding, a bride, anything matrimonial. And please, Miss Daae, make it understandable next time. I can see you put forth effort into this one, and I hope the next reflects something special in all of you. "

The bell rang, Christine waited a moment or two before getting up. Ahh, the wonders of the end of the school day. Picking up her carrier bag, she crumbled her poem, throwing it in the wastebasket. Quite a productive day, now off to the busses.

Taking a seat in the front, she watched the driver pull away from the curb, shutting the door with a flick of the lever. Huddling up, and stretching her legs out on the seat, she watched the school disappear in a blur. She liked the learning part of school, really. It was the people that bothered.

Thick like cattle, they always ran around, not caring who they touched. She on the other hand, hated physical contact, and was suspended quite a few times for displaying the hatred with fists, and teeth. How odd, that physical violence didn't annoy her. She always attributed it to her past.

She saw the group home, and thanked the bus driver before stepping out. It wasn't bad looking on the outside, but inside, it was so full. Full of desperate younglings with nothing to live for, who hated everything and wanted nothing more then to get away, to find a place where tragedy couldn't touch them. Pushing open the door, she made her way to the music room.

The one luxury they had. Music. Acoustic and electric guitars, two drum sets, a trumpet, two violins, one of which were her own, and an old piano. She stroked the yellowing keys, before slitting down at the blue drum set to the left. Nobody was here at this time, and she liked it.

She started to play some random tune, making sure it was wild. It helped get rid of some of the tension in her muscles. Being alert all day tuckered her out. She felt a devious curl tickle her nose, only to be disappointed when she wrapped it all with the hair tie around her wrist.

Finishing, she stood, taking a seat at the piano. She had been placed in a lot of foster facilities, but she liked this one the most. Music caressed her the way no man ever would, wrapping her senses in a cocoon of desire.  
She started to my a sad song, a requiem for her parents. She tried to play one every Friday in March.

Friday in March.. The month and day they died, and took her hopes and dreams with them. She didn't feel the eyes that were burning into her back as she played. She let the words take over, the way her father had taught her. Every moment was exctasy, every key a step toward redemption.

* * *

"**_ How long did we all think..._****_This all would last"  
_**

* * *

Walking by, a masked man alighted upon the window.The most poignant playing was ringing in the air, not that half the streetwalkers noticed. The curtains weren't completely closed, and he chanced upon alook inside. Sitting there on the bench was a girl. 

He kept those amber eyes fixed on her, noticing the way her stern features seemed to smooth out, as if she was in a much better place then here, playing an ancient piano, with a tear floating down one snowy cheek. An angel.

An angel in hell.

* * *

**_" Who could have counted days..As they flew past"_**

* * *

He touched a hand to his masked cheek, watching the girls abandon as she played. She was his, he knew. He was the angel of Hell, who played the sirens call of the damned. And here sat his little priestess, offering him damning fruits. Curious ears had sent him into this den of unwanted things. Now that he saw this girl, he knew she must belong to him.

* * *

**_"But before we go, sing us a song, Sing us a song, to hum through the hours of dying"_**

* * *

Dying, dying for this girl. He was thirty, and he was pining for a seventeen year old ? 

Just another indication of now thoroughly corrupted his soul was. For did the distortion really lay in his skin, or his _heart_?

* * *

_**"Who would have thought it'd come as such a show**_"

* * *

He had been dead from the moment he first opened his eyes, but this girl , this angry little kitten had given him a eulogy. So now he would take her, and she would belong to the ghost.. Always there but never seen. His and his alone to have, to share his hatred, longing, and pain with.

* * *

"_**A pink and silver day, who was to know"**_

* * *

He felt her heart in those words. Such beauty in the land of death and despair. He would teach this girl the music of his tortured mind. It held the power to seduce and possess her, the way _he _wanted to possess her. 

He felt himself grow hard at the though of his long deadly hands stroking that flesh, playing it like an instrument and listening to the sounds and feelings he evoked.

* * *

_**"Even as we go, sing us a song, Sing us a song, to hum through the hours of dying"**_

* * *

She abruptly stopped, as a bolt of sunlight fractured through a nearby window and almost blinded her. She felt her senses return, as she whirled around to find who had disturbed her reverie. 

Nobody was there.

Gathering her wits, she went to Mrs. Guiducelli's office. The woman hated her with a passion, but she had to check in after school. Prying open the door, she was surprised to find not only Crazy Carlotta .

The man had his back turned, but every part of him was covered in black. His deep brown hair slicked back off of his face. He was silent, as the ugly woman toadied to him. She had that gigantic fake smile plastered on.Feeling nauseous,Christine was about to walk out when she heard Nutso's cackle.

" Well, my dear little girl, guess who just requested to adopt you?"

Her heart burned in dead…

* * *

I don't own POTO. The lyrics for the two songs belong to their respective artists. 


	2. Chapter 2

My thanks to Koorime13, who reads my stories even if she hasn't read POTO. You are truly my most devoted fan, and for that I thank you. My second thanks must go to Erik's Dark Lullaby, who was kind enough to review. Her story is better then mine, lol. Go read it, shoo! Thank you also to GerikMuse and Masqueraders for the kind words! Oh and Masquerader: She will try.. Oh yes.. She will try.

Painful Recovery

Christine had been amazed when the masked man had left. She had refused to speak to Carlotta since she had stepped into this little "shelter". Of course, this didn't stop the woman from harassing her on a regular basis. The man had signed the papers, and while Carlotta sent them to social services for processing and background checking, I worried and waited.

How could they consider letting the man adopt me? The first thing I noticed about him was the way I was at ease in his presence, which immediately made me uneasy, if that makes sense. He had the eyes of a predator, amber. I would have started to run if I had not noticed his pupils were circular.

I had to put thoughts of him from my head as I opened my locker, pulling a geometry text out. I always took a different book to English, after all, it isn't like we need it. Our teacher was obsessed with poetry, from haiku to, well, anything. She loved to pick on me for my eccentricities as well. As if I needed a good prodding to bloom into society. Sometimes I just wanted to smack the woman.

Entering the classroom quietly, I took my seat. My dark blue sweatpants and "hoodie" as they call it in this bass akwards little town, making me look like a giant billowing puddle on the sidewalk. I removed my "_wedding poem_". I hope she enjoyed it. I didn't really know her name, actually never said it. I only spoke when I had to, considering if I failed a class Carlotta would take my music away.

The woman made the class recite their kindergarten quality poems, before calling me forward. Per usual, I was last. Most likely because she needed a break from the norm, or her hair would be forcibly pulled from her fat head. Clearing my throat I spoke. I buried one hand in my pocket, while the other clutched the small piece of notebook paper. I could feel the moist paper in my sweaty hands. This time, I would just recite it and get it over with.

_"Every day she thinks her life will end,  
Every time the call rings they are late.  
They never come quite in time to see his fist Leave it's mark on the side of her disgrace_."

She grinned when their mouths gaped pen. Of course, she was a bold little thing, wasn't she? Watching the Chagny boys' eyes glaze over in anger, she continued. Of course, he knew the song was about his family.. He past was quite the violent one, after all.

_"They'll never charge him anyway and you know it.  
Say we can't get involved today.  
So where's the choice and who protects her now?  
Bruised and battered, the blood has stained her gown_."

Little Giry had tears in her eyes. Those haunting little muddled things. I wondered what skeletons lingered in her closet?

_"Useless screams for help can't save her now,  
Choices rendered the house is burning down.  
No one will ever understand, cause they don't have to feel his crushing hands.  
And the ears that ignored her screams before are wondering what she did it for."_

She was about to continue, until she felt Raoul de Changy's fist hit her face. It was light, considering what she was used to. Her head didn't even move. She knew not to retaliate, was the teacher restrained the boy. Soon after, they were both in the office, awaiting the principal to decide their fate. Just as the boy was called in, she looked up with a malicious smile.

_"But with a bottle of kerosene she found her freedom,  
And then burned the bastard to the ground and ran.  
The fire will now wash away the blood on her white wedding dress." _

She laughed, much like a mental patient, as the school officer restrained the boy. How comical. Maybe he should have thought first, before doing what he did. Christine waited for her turn in the office of doom, as she liked to call it. When the door opened, Changy almost stomped on my foot trying to get away . The look in his eyes spelled murder, and I knew our little confrontation wasn't over yet.

Principal Khan was a fair guy, I had to say. He always listened to my side of the story, and he never suspended kids. He told me once that he didn't reward trouble makers by sending them on vacation. I liked that in men, hell, if he was a couple years older, I might try to seduce him. Oh no.. he doesn't look happy..

" Ms. Daae? Just what were you thinking by provoking Raoul? The last time I didn't think I could keep his parents from pressing charges. You promised me that you wouldn't bring up his mother again! "

I picked at my nail polish for a few moments, before speaking. " Well, how did he come to the conclusion it was about him? Just because his father beat his mother until she killed him and burnt the house down doesn't mean I am talking about him. My muse runs me, not the other way around."

I pressed my luck by propping my converse covered feet on his desk crossing my arms across my body I waited for the inevitable words to come out of his mouth. After all, he had read my record. Four expulsions in a year and a half. He had been dealing with me fairly, but this school sucked. Raoul wouldn't stop harassing me, and nobody could seem to accept that I hate being stared at!

" Ms. Daae, I have been patient with you long enough." His voice was almost a whisper, which terrified me more then yelling could .I tried to stop the words that slammed into my mind hard enough to bruise. The words HE had said, that day in the rain.

_You are a monster. Everyone can feel it inside you, twisting to get out. All you want to do is scream. But remember, If you do, I will find you. And I'll never let you go_.

I felt my face twist into a pained expression, before I schooled it back into casual sarcasm. No use remembering. Back to the listening, shall we?

" I am trying to understand your situation Christine. But really, all you seem to do here is fight, or acquire bruises and such seemingly by accident. I am glad you came though. Your social services agent called. She told me that you have been adopted. The papers went through not an hour ago. They are sending someone out to pick you up, then you will be given information about your new caregiver. She will take you to meet him."

He looked into her eyes then. His were so green they made her think of wet grass. She would never know that he was thinking about how her own reminded him of a rainy sky. She knew he had always had a soft spot for dirty, pretty things. And she had a big heart for older, quiet men. She felt the urge to hide behind him for a moment. Adopt? That strange man with the eyes that seduced her darker side.

She settled on standing up. Sighing she gripped his desk. " What do you mean? I'm almost eighteen, they can't and they wouldn't. " She felt her heart racing, as her vision closed in. She heard Khan say something, but she couldn't make it out, before she fell into that terrifying space between sleep and awake.

Nadir Khan swept a lock of black hair from his eyes as he tried to rouse the girl who had become his number one priority. Hell, if he knew that he would become so infatuated, he would never have agreed to let her come here. But he had, and now she was a fixture he couldn't ignore. It was cliché to use the word love, so he had determined that it was caring. He cared for the girl enough to be concerned about her welfare.

He had contemplated, once or twice (a day), about having a relationship with Christine. But he couldn't think past the fact that it would be betraying her trust . He was, in all actuality the only male she ever spoke to. Well, except Chagny. But insulting him wasn't the same as the conversations they had. She was special, that was the only way to explain it.

Her eyes opened, staring up into his face. It took a moment to focus, but when she took in his bronze skin and his eyes, she did something totally unexpected.

She hugged him.

She wrapped those pale arms around him and he felt his heart burst into flames. How could something so wrong feel so good? She was his sons age, for Allah's sake!

She let go soon enough, feeling him shake. Why was he shuddering, it wasn't THAT cold in the office. Getting to her feet, she bid him goodbye, shutting the door as she left. How could one plain girl arouse emotions he had buried since the death of his wife? No, it was lust, just lust. He could get over this.

She waited outside on the benches. She hadn't met her new social worker yet, but since it was a woman, she was sure to be either a) middle aged, b) mean, or c) both.  
When the nondescript black sedan pulled up, she got in without questioning it. After all, she had been in this game for six years, you had to give her a little credit.

The stern brunette woman who greeted her was down to earth. She wore an all black pantsuit, and looked like she would rather be holding up a liquor store then seeing me right now.

We drove for a while, before ending up at the office. It was a white, bland building, the kind you look for and is in sight, but you still walk past it. I held open the door for her, and apparently she wasn't used to such niceties from clients. She thanked me curtly, before taking me into an adjoining room.

It was cold and dark, when we entered. The lights were dim and a computer screen was the only source of color. I took a seat on the flimsy plastic chair, noting dryly that it was so old it could fall to dust in moments. She got behind the wood desk, seating herself before speaking.

" My name is Mrs. Giry, Ms. Daae. I am your new social services representative. You are here, as your principal should have told you, to meet your new foster parent. He has been deemed eligible by the state, and since you are not yet eighteen, we are awarding you to him. His name is Erik Bathory. We have already had your things moved to his house on the outskirts of town, and he requested I inform you of his possession of musical instruments for you."

Giry , whom I realized quite some time ago to be the mother of the girl in my class, paused, to remover her glasses. " Christine, I must also tell you that this man is quite different from other foster families. He is single, and prefers solitude. He is a musician, he is a lyricist, and a composer. He is also disfigured on the left side of his face. How he acquired this I don't know, but he has asked me to tell you; so you do not let curiosity get the better of you."

She nodded, informing the woman she understood in the only way she really used. So, he was deformed? What would a deformed music lover want with her? This seemed just a little creepy.

She suddenly struck out with her right hand, feeling it connect with the face of whoever was breathing down her neck. She almost felt sheepish when it was the very man she would be stuck with for a half a year, until she turned the blissful age of eighteen. She could see the raw anger burning in those features, as he sat down beside her, and speaking with Giry.

" Well, seems I have a little spitfire, in this one. May we leave, or is there some paperwork to finish here?"

Giry handed him a slip or two, which he signed quickly. Christine hardly had time to wave goodbye before a grip that was almost vice-like dragged her from the building. He opened the door to a sleek black number that she couldn't describe, handing her into it with a volatile grace. She crossed her arms as they drove east, towards the hills.

He fought for something to say, before cursing mentally and throwing out something even he didn't expect to come out. " How did you know I was behind you?"

He watched the girls eyes roll heavenwards underneath those earthen eyebrows. " Well, when one breathes down my neck like Darth Vader, I tend to notice, _Dad."_

She felt the terrain underneath her swerve, as she looked up, into those lions eyes. Damn, she was in for it now.

R&R!-Krys


	3. Chapter 3

Hey again. Just for the record, I don't own these songs, or the characters, but I do own the plot, which must be worth something..

Settled

She didn't see him move until he gripped her jaw, squeezing a little more harshly then he had to. She looked up , blue to yellow. He had pulled off the busy road, and now they sat on the edge of it, looking into each others eyes like a couple of fools. She didn't realize he was staring until his fingers brushed the rather large bruise Raoul had left on her eye.

Now he realized why she had kept looking at the ground. She had shiner so big he knew the one who gave it to her had to be male. He couldn't help the possessive rage that flowed through him at that thought. How dare anyone touch what was his? How dare anyone think they had the right to touch her! Christine didn't really have any expression besides curious skepticism.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when he ground out one word that shook her with it's intensity." Who!"

She shrugged, pulling her jaw from his grasp quickly, and staring out the window. So she got hit, it wasn't anything exciting. He didn't speak for a while, pulling back unto the road and continuing until they got to a dirt one. They took it for a couple miles, then stopping at a beautiful, (if not a little dark) looking house. It was crimson, almost blood colored, with black shutters. The architecture was magnificence itself, all in the oldest of styles.

The lawn, she could see, was covered in flowers of all kinds, even climbing up the sides of the demonic palace. They creeped up the lattices, covering windows in some places. It seemed this place housed Hades, and Persephones' minions tried to free her from the prison and bring her back to the earthen soil. She heard a car door open and realized Erik had opened hers. She slid out, following his fabulously clad feet.

She had gotten the full tour. Twelve rooms, a music room, eight bathrooms, and two gardens. She watched as he opened the patio doors, revealing a Japanese rock garden. It was beautiful ,she watched as a small elderly man worked to draw designs in it. She smiled lightly, letting her severe calm look fade for a few moments.

" I am going to assume you like it? I thought teenagers where hell bent on gaudy pools and those bacteria ridden hot tubs."

Flipping a curl away from her face, she replied back, with a little sarcasm in her voice. "Well, I can't really appreciate a good pool, considering I don't know how to swim. I figured that would be in their little 'Thank you for purchasing this child' catalog."

She saw him tense, before he turned to her. She kind of liked the way his eyes burned behind the mask. She always knew when she had provoked him. It made her feel good, to know some people got just as flustered at her poker face as she did with their own. " Girl, I ignored your flippancy in the car, but I, for one, am not your _Dad_, far from it actually. And yes, I do own you, so you will follow my rules."

Her nails her digging in her flesh as she spoke. " What will you do, send me back? Oh well, it would be better there anyway. All I have to do there is shut up and not break any laws for half a year. So if being a bitch is what it will take, then I will do all I can to piss you off! Nobody owns me!"

Her tilted her little face to the side, pressing the large bruise around her eye until the pain was slapping against her skin like waves in the ocean. She didn't let it show, but it was very uncomfortable. He leaned down, whispering in her ear " Oh, my dear, didn't you know? Taking down your prey is twice as fun when it fights first. Oh, and don't get any delusions about going back to that little rats nest of yours. If you disobey, I will just make your time here a little more.. _Unpleasant_"

She was broken from her reverie by the sound of steps. The little Japanese gardener had come over, bowing as he spoke. " Good day, Master Erik., Miss Christine. The master told us you were to arrive. I am Chiba Mamoru, oh, I mean Mamoru Chiba. Your etiquette is a little different then mine. I apoligize. " He was well over sixty, but looked to be in good health, smiling with honey brown eyes.

Imagine Erik's surprise when Christine bowed back, much lower though, and replied to Mamoru in his native tongue. " _Ohayo gozaimasu, Chiba ojii-sama. Watashi wa Daae Christine. Daijoubou desu ka?"_

Mamoru smiled, before replying" Ah! I did not know you knew the language of my homeland! _Daijoubou desu. Arigato, Christine-chan. Konban wa_!" Erik shook his head, wondering what they spoke of, as the man ran back to the gardens. As They ventured back into the house, he chose his words for what had just occurred.

" I did not know you were so fluent in other languages Christine."

She had recognized the French accent from the moment he spoke, and decided to give him another little jolt to the ego. "_Il y a beaucoup de choses vous n'êtes pas au courant de moi, monsieur Erik._"

She didn't see the hungry stare he gave her, as she headed towards the room he had designated.

Two days later, after she had settled in, he watched her, as she sat in the gardens, watching Mamoru , as she seemed wont to do. Maybe the motions across the sand soothed her as well. He seemed to always watch her, though she never saw him. Or acted as if she never saw him, anyhow. He decided to listen to her and the gardener's conversation, though he couldn't understand. She let the words flow from her tongue, pronunciation perfect, or so the little jiji had said.

When she started to sing, he froze to his spot on the balcony. Even though he couldn't understand the words, it was so beautiful he almost asked aloud for the translation. To convey that much heartbreak in a song . Running his hands through his hair, he remembered the first day he saw her. She would be his. She just didn't know it yet.

"_Fukai fukai mori no oku ni ima mo kitto (I'm sure that the heart I left behind)  
okizari ni shita kokoro kakushite'ru yo (still lies hidden in the heart of the deep, deep forest)  
sagasu hodo no chikara mo naku tsukarehateta (Exhausted, without the strength to search)  
hitobito wa eien no yami ni kieru (people vanish into the infinite darkness)  
chisai mama nara kitto ima demo mieta ka na (If it's so small, I wonder if I can see it even now)  
boku-tachi wa ikiru hodo ni (as we live on)  
nakushite'ku sukoshi zutsu (we lose a little bit more) itsuwari ya uso wo matoi (Shrouded in falsehoods and lies) tachisukumu koe mo naku (we stand frozen to the spot, unable to cry out)  
aoi aoi sora no iro mo kidzukanai mama (The days pass by and change)  
sugite yuku mainichi ga kawatte yuku (without us even realizing how blue the sky really is)  
tsukurareta wakugumi wo koe ima wo ikite (Overcoming that made-up scheme, we live the present)  
sabitsuita kokoro mata ugokidasu yo (and our rusted hearts begin to beat again)  
toki no rizumu wo shireba mo ichido toberu darou (if we can find the rhythm of time, we can fly once again)  
boku-tachi wa samayoi nagara (we live our lives)  
ikite yuku doko made mo (wandering to the ends of the earth)  
shinjite'ru hikari motome (Believing (in you), now I begin my journey with you)  
arukidasu kimi to ima (in search of the light)  
boku-tachi wa ikiru hodo ni (as we live on)  
nakushite'ku sukoshi zutsu (we lose a little bit more) itsuwari ya uso wo matoi (Shrouded in falsehoods and lies) tachisukumu koe mo naku (we stand frozen to the spot, unable to cry out)  
boku-tachi wa samayoi nagara (we live our lives)  
ikite yuku doko made mo (wandering to the ends of the earth)  
furikaeru (Closing off)  
michi wo tozashi (the way back)  
aruite'ku eien ni (we walk on for eternity)  
tachisukumu koe mo naku (We live our lives standing frozen to the spot)  
ikite yuku eien ni (unable to cry out, for eternity...)"_

Mamoru looked at her, propping his arms against the rake, before speaking in English." You know, Christine-chan, you are very quiet and mature for your age. I have the sinking feeling that your life hasn't been easy."

She laughed, a sound he hadn't really heard before. It was pure sounding, nice. Like little bells ringing through his head. " Well, I believe you are right, Mamoru-Ojii-san. But you need not protect me, after all, I am just fine by myself."

He chuckled, before answering her back." But , my girl, if I did that, I wouldn't be living up to my name. You'll be good for Master Erik, you two seem to have much the same disposition."

Christine sighed rather loudly, before stepping off the first floor porch and onto a large rock in the garden Mamoru was working with." That is the problem though, Mamoru-san. He and I are so alike, we are always fighting. Not that I dissuade it, after all, I was just fine by myself. But he doesn't have to act as if I am some piece of art or nice violin that he can collect."

The old man laughed, before delivering a soft punch to her shoulder. " I am sure the man feels much the same about your lack of respect for him. Really Miss, all he wants is a little company. Would it kill you to give him that? After all, tomorrow you go back to school. You might as well fix things with him before you go to sleep tonight. It might make the ride there a little less tense."

She entered the house not long after that, retreating to the music room. Sitting on the piano bench, she started to play a random tune. He debated joining her in the large, dark room, before striding in, and sitting right next to her on the soft seat. He expected it when she jumped like a startled cat, and walked over to the corner with the guitars. She ignored him, as she started to play a song.

" _Another long quiet night.  
Another long quiet, lonely night spent at your side.  
Not a lot left to say.  
There's not a lot that I still could say to change your mind."  
_

_"But with a little bit of money we could buy us a car.  
With a little luck we could get away from where we are.  
Let's get out of here.  
We'll drive, one thousand miles an hour.  
We'll fly by wheat fields and water towers.  
We'll go. We'll go and we'll go and we'll go. Let's go."_

He watched her as she played, she didn't look down and watch her fingers hit the different sounds. She knew this by heart. It must have been her own.

"_Now the look in your eye.  
You know, the look right before you cry... it's always here."_

"So in the day when you wake.  
In the morning when you awake, let's disappear."

"With a little bit of money we could buy us a car.  
With a little luck we could get away from where we are.  
Let's get out of here.  
We'll drive, one thousand miles an hour.  
We'll fly by wheat fields and water towers.  
We'll go. We'll go and we'll go and we'll go. Let's go"

He realized this was her own way of asking for forgiveness. It was much like is own, truth be told, and he gave her a nod. She nodded back, as they both retook their seats at the piano.

They both exited the music room a few hours later, going to there separate rooms. Erik clutched his heart as he laid down. How could one girl effect him so? They had spent their time writing lyrics, and tuning the piano to perfection. After all, he mostly used his organ, which he kept in the attic, for such things. Just before he took to his rest, she remembered a line from the Japanese song, after all, she had translated it into English for him, saying it was her favorite song.

_"Tsukurareta wakugumi wo koe ima wo ikite.  
sabitsuita kokoro mata ugokidasu yo …"_

Hope you liked it. Any translation quirks are not my bad. I used a translation company.

Japanese: Ohayo Gozaimasu- (Respectful) Hello Ojii-Grandfather Sama- Respectful additive used for lords or important persons.  
Watashi Wa- my name is Daijoubou Desu Ka?- how are you?  
Daijoubou Desu- I'm fine.  
Arigato- Thank you.  
Konban Wa- Good afternoon.  
Chiba Mamoru- Protector of Earth.  
The French: There are many things you do not know about me, Mister Erik.  
Please read and review.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey all. Shivers back. The last chapters ending was lame, but forgive me, it was one in the morning. I am kinda pissed with this story right now, I don't understand something. According to my hit count, it has been visited 650 times. Now, when only eight of these 650 people review, it makes me feel depressed. And Yes, Napea, I had to include Mamoru, lol. Maybe his delightful elderly wife will one day make an appearance, hmm? Just a warning, there will be a few racist comments in this chapter. I am by no means a racist, even though my parents aren't exactly tolerant. But this is how my Raouly must be.

Bitter Taste of Blood in Your Mouth

Christine walked brusquely through the halls of her school, startling a few freshmen who , (even thought to her ears she was stomping) didn't hear her approach. Dropping her pack on the floor with a thump, she sat at the desk, and pulled out a notebook. Using this time to write a short song, she was forced to look up when a large, rather tan hand slammed down onto the desk.

" Hello, Daae. Did you think I would just let you get away with your stunt on Friday? Your lucky that towel head freak sent you home, otherwise you would have gotten this sooner."

Leaning in, his curly gold hair brushing her forehead, his sneer was quite prominent on those damn sparkly teeth. He failed to see the sharpened pencil she had in her grasp. He couldn't ignore it, however. She looked up into those eyes of his, before sending her arm arcing upward.

Raoul Chagny felt the pain blossoming and fell on his backside. Gripping his right shoulder, he pulled his hand away, only to find it soaked on dark red blood. She had stabbed him in the stretch between neck and shoulder, the pencil sticking up from him. It was the first time he had ever seen her scared. She covered her mouth, her gray eyes looking a little closer to their old bright blue.

She couldn't believe it, she had stabbed him! She thought he would dodge, or maybe get a scratch or..

She felt a strong pair of arms around her, and a arc of pain blazing through her forehead, then, there was nothing. Nothing but darkness.

Raoul felt the boys tug him to his feet, Richard applying pressure to his shoulder, while Moncharmin continued to steady him. Looking up, his mind reeling, he saw Bouqet knock out Christine, and continue with his abuse, even though she couldn't feel it. The blurry vision increased, as did the pain, until he only had enough strength to mutter, as he lost consiousness as well.

"_Make her pay_."

Nadir Khan was admittedly confused, to say the least. Raoul Chagny was hospitalized for an injury he wouldn't explain, almost dying of blood loss, and now, Christine was missing! Nadir shook his head as he paced. No, not Christine, Miss Daae. He couldn't think of her like that now. For all he knew she was dead somewhere! He had rung her new residence once, receiving quite the cold word form her new guardian.

Erik drove as quickly as possible to the damn school, a fury he had only felt with killing kindling inside. He remembered his words to the principal, who hadn't even bothered to introduce himself. He had told him Christine's choice to be a truant skipper was none of his concern. But now, it has been two days, longer then he was willing to tolerate the girls absence.

He knew the possibilities. She had either run away, which was plausible, though it hurt his pride to admit it. Or she had been taken. Exiting the car, he strode purposefully toward the door of the school. It was still dark, as it seemed like there would be rain, but no students had gotten off the busses, which had parked about two hundred feet from his own spot. Ha continued up a little sidewalk , cursing in French when a drop of rain pelted his hand.

Wiping it off quickly, he was surprised when it stained his fingers. Rubbing them together, he was puzzled at the blood there. Was it the apocalypse? Obviously not. It wasn't until he heard the screech of the girl who had just gotten on the path that he looked up.

She was there. Christine. He couldn't bear the sight of her like that. He just couldn't. That's when the rain started to fall, washing the land . It mixed with her blood was it fell upon Erik, soaking him in iron and tears.

Nadir Khan pulled his shades open, looking to see what the commotion was. Falling from his desk chair, she ripped the window open, pushing the screen out. There she was. Christine. Who could have done this? His angel.. His bloody, hell driven angel. He whispered prayers under his breath, picking up the phone .

" This is Connie Everclear, reporting to you from Cocoa Beach High school, where a girl was found, tortured, raped, and blinded this Wednesday . Reports haven't found any fingerprints or semen, but the damage done has proven that this was not consensual. The girl's name was Christine Daae, daughter of the late violinist, Charles, and his wife, Cecelia . The thing that makes this case so unusual, was the fact that she was.. Well.. She was apparently crucified. The captors nailed her hands to a board, before somehow getting her up this giant flagpole, sitting outside the front of the building. They then nailed down her feet, and secure her with rope. They nailed a sign above her on the pole, the police have yet to release the details of it's messa-"

Connie broke off, as she pressed her earpeice , before speaking. "Actually, we have just received confirmation that the note, which was written in Latin. It was apparently written in her own blood. It read 'Hic lies Sarcalogos , Regina of Damno.' translated, it says, Here lies Christine, Queen of the Damned. With the culprits still on the loose, the girls new foster father has moved her to a private hospital, and wishes that his name remain anonymous."

Erik waited for news on her condition, his long fingers tapping out the beat to some Mozart, while his brain was burned with her image. Even naked, covered in blood, bruises and rope burns, she had been beautiful. He didn't know what he would do, should she pass away. The helpless feeling he hadn't had since his mother , may she burn in hell, she started to whore herself.

He couldn't even find the strength to go find her kidnappers, and give them some hell. The doctors had spoken with him, explaining everything in details he was sorry he asked for now. They had poured bleach, or some other cleaning substance into her eyes, holding them open until she was blinded. The doctors told him they were the oldest wounds on her person, besides the blow to her head. Apparently, they didn't want to have to worry about being identified.

There had been uterine damage, from some instrument or another they had used to rape her with. They had removed her ovaries, and everything else with them. He had felt like slapping himself when the dark voice in the back of his mind danced at that thought. No children, no deformed children, when he took her as his own.

Their beatings had left her with shattered wrists and broken arm, which would recover, in time. The bone had come through the skin, which had to be treated for infection and tetanus, before stitching. One of her legs had been broken, it was their guess that she had fallen from the flagpole once, breaking a leg, only to be dragged back up.

Both collarbones had broken, her nose had nearly been gone, thought they said they would attempt plastic surgery when she was strong enough. The bleach had made her gray irises white, and her black pupils gray, for some odd reason. The doctors told him she suffered from tears on her anus, and a broken tailbone. It had been fixed, but the extent of the damage done would hinder her healing by months. Sitting would be impossible for the first two months, and most likely highly difficult for the third.

The doctor hadn't needed to tell him that her mental stability would be iffy during these periods. After all, the girl had been through something traumatic before this, during her childhood. The doctor was forbidden to disclose it under the patient confidentiality agreement, so Erik had been left in the dark. What had happened to the girl? How could it have been as horrifying as this? He was used to inflicting damage, not grieving the affliction. He refused to leave her bedside, the girls haggard breathing the only releif he had.

He was planning on using her too, but he would never rape her! Never. He remembered his mothers tears, when the johns would get too rough, and she would come home, still without money, and now with no hope. He would get beaten then, just for being. He would not allow this to go unpunished.

Christine would be avenged, and whoever did this would learn of Hellfire when they were found. After all, She was his. When she woke, he would be there. Now and forever. He supposed she would grow used to it. He had her last name changed to Bathory, as his was. It wouldn't do to be caught by paparazzi. Kissing the girls forehead, he turned out the bedside lamp, his pupils dilating in the black that surrounded them.

_Queen of the Damned.._

It echoed through his body, as each beep of her monitor filled his black heart with hope, hope for a future he had only ever dreamed of. How could she refuse him now, being as scarred as he? Inside, of course, more then out. He took her hand, mindful of her broken fingers, which must have been hit with a bat, or something of the like.

He didn't know what drew them together, maybe God was finally giving him something as sullied as he, a filthy gift for a filthy man. But she was so beautiful to him. Odd. It was unexplainable, but he somehow found her even more beautiful, beaten and broken, then perfectly composed in her sweaters and sneakers. She was his little broken sparrow.

It was a wonderful feeling, not being solitary. He could sit and stare if he wanted, maybe take of the mask? No! That was out of the question. Should she wake and see him, she would think him a monster, and merely hurt herself trying to escape. Stroking the white leather, he let his eyes fall closed, thinking of this whole predicament.

To coin a phrase from the King and I, it was a puzzlement.

AN: I am sorry, but it was necessary for the plot. Erik is not cold to her suffering, but he is feeling numb to it, like many people who find loved ones like this are. The horrid thoughts about children he has are natural, guilty mind mechanisms. Please forgive ma, and review.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello All. It hasn't been a good week, but oh well. I had to replace my hardrive, and I actually wrote this chapter too. It had a file error and deleted. Fuckin A. Oh, Kagome1514, I am a fan. I left you reveiws before! I love Inu! Just don't read my Inu fics cause.. this is hard for me to tell you.. :winces: I am a Sesshoumaru and Kagome fan. 

On with the fic!

As Time Ticks By...

Nadir straightened his tie, as the girl of his dreams opened her car door.

It had been a year since her attack, and after wound infections, painful rehab, counseling she hadn't needed, and quite a bit of fighting, mostly with Erik Bathory, she was allowed to return to school. She had chosen a pair of cargo jeans and a black off the shoulder shirt, the pockets of the pants holding her many identification cards, her housekeys, pens and pencils, and her pepper spray. She held a red tipped cane, tapping it lightly against concrete, as she and her gaurdian marched up the sidewalk, to the opening of her worst hell.

Erik had been patient with her, for the first few weeks after the accident. She had refused to talk, eat, and be touched. It wasn't until she was force fed by Erik that she had been inclined to take muorishment freely. The man was a persistent bastard, she would give him that. When rehab had started, she had flat out refused to wear the shorts and tank tops she would need, other clothing weighing down too heavily for the water excercises.

Erik had eventually taken her in his arms and tossed her in. He knew she couldn't swim, so it was only the shallow end. When she managed to struggle her way up to the surface of the water, he had faced down her wrath, a terrible grin on his face. After all, what threat did a little blind girl pose to a monster like him? He could have killed her so quickly she wouldn't have felt pain.

The other half year, he forced Christine to go to counseling sessions, even thought she wouldn't speak to anybody about what they deemed 'her ordeal'. She spent her time memorizing her way around the house, perfecting her other senses, and strengthening her muscles. She started taking kick-boxing, venting her excess rage on the bag, picturing Chagny, her parents.. anything.

Then there was the trial. Erik had started a suit against the football palyers, thinking they were behind the attack. But when Christine had taken the stand, she had amazed the jury.

She did not remember who attacked her, but she knew it wasn't them. They had roughed her up a little, and left her there, passed out. After all, they had taken Raoul to the hospital, to get his wounds taken care of. After the case was dismissed, the boys had stated their gratitude to Christine, who coldly pointed out that if she hadn't been left there, she wouldn't have been beaten and raped in the first place. And that, unlike them, she didn't punish other people for things that happened by accident.

He said goobye to Erik at the door of Nadir Khan's office, stepping in, only to have the familiar Nadir smell enter her system. He smelled almost like cinnamon, but warmer, if that made any sense. She waved the cane lightly, until it thunked against a chair. She occupied it, after sweeping her hand across it, making sure it was what she thought it was.

"Hello, Mr.Khan. How are you today?"

She could almost hear the bitter regret in his voice as he spoke." I am fine, Christine.Though I should be asking you that question, seeing as the only reason you have been absent was my failure to protect you."

She sighed. It was the cripple guilt again. She had seen enough of it in the past year. Everyong thought that it was their fault she had been blinded and beaten and.. well it wasn't It was Fate being her usual bitchy self.

" Mr.Khan, I am fine,otherwise I doubt Erik Bathory would have let me attend this year. He is a rather strict man. I now have a means of defending myself I assure you. And besides, it isn't your fault I was attacked. After all, Buquet or Moncharmin could have taken me to the nurses or something.So it is their fault, and the fault of the person who did this. But not you. "

He watched those eerily vacant eyes stare at the wall behind him, as her face lit up in a sarcastic grin." Now stop feeling sorry for yourself before I whack you with this stick!" She waved the cane lightly, before dumping her schoolbag on the floor beside her." Do you like the change in wardrobe? Yeah, that was Bathory again. He seems to have burnt all my comfy stuff after the accident, stating that,"If I ever wanted to look attractive, I would have to accessorize. I swear to god , I think I damn near strangled him."

Nadir and Christine made with the small talk, until it came time to give her the class schedule. He handed it to her, only to feel like jumping out a window when she couldn't read it." Uhh, got braille, Mr.Khan? Cause unless the paper starts talking, I am gonna be screwed."

He was glad she had made a joke of the mistake. He asked her if she knew her way to the classes, and when she told him she had come their a week before to memorize the wings, he was startled, but thankful. He was surprised to see that her gaurdian had signed her up for musical talents for first period. He would have to listen in. She went to take her leave, smiling in his general direction.

He looked down at his papers, only to hear a thump. He then noticed, she had shut her hair in the door! Running over and opening it, he pulled her up to her feet, praying that she was alright. He was dazed, as he pulled her into his office, to hear the sound of laughter emanating from the girl.

He brushed the hair from her face, noting that it was much softer then he had ever imagined. He tilted her face up, looking for abrasions or anything of the sort. He noticed the thin trickle of blood running from her lip, smeared across her chin.slightly. She looked so beautiful, eyes of pure white, crimson lips. She was frail and fiesty, beautiful yet cold inside. His hand slipped up the plane of her cheek, into those soft curls.

He moved his face closer to hers, noticing the small scar running over the bridge of her nose. She was flushed now, her vacant eyes staring into his own . It was an oddity, and he thoughtfor a moment that this was justice, brought into the world to end the suffering of the weak. She had not spoken, and as she tried to speak, she felt lips crush against her own.

Nadir new he was being foolish, hoping against hope that he wouldn't frighten her, as he gently brushed against those bloody lips, tasting her. It was delicious, almost sinful. Igniting his own blood, he was surprised to find her submissive, allowing him to slid his tongue against her own. It was a beautiful feeling, until he realized that she was trembling. He withdrew, holding her shoulders lightly as he berated himself. She had been raped, and he was doing nothing to prove that the male race was redeemable.

She was trembling, hoping the kiss would never end. It was pure, erasing all the painful one she had ever received. It was like the first taste of water, after a lifetime of living in the desert. She knew though, that when he pulled away, he would regret doing it. She was disgustingly used after all. Scarred and blind, like a lost little mouse. He had seen her weakness for him, and like so many others, had turned her away.

" Have a nice day, Nadir."

With that, she retreived her things, and made her exit.

Music was fun, she had to admit. The teacher sat in his office, while she and the few others talented enough for independant musical study, played with the school's mediocre, but functional, guitars.Little did she know that one of her fellow classmates was Nadir's son, Reza. He was a rather sickly boy, who had the nicest attitude. She had spoken to him for a few moments, before warming up her guitar.

Reza watched her as she started in on a song.

" _Finally recover ,And the mood is right,_

_Looking up into a neon sky_

_Child in me takes over _

_Guess it's been too long._

_Since the last time that I tried to fly._

_Finally I find when I lose control,_

_Inside my body crumbles."_

She remembered the rush of kickboxing, giving into the need to hurt; to make something else feel what she felt.

_"It's like therapy for my broken soul ,_

_Inside my body crumbles._

_All I need's a moment,_

_Chance to get away _

_From the stressfulness of every day._

_Know if I don't question _

_And I never doubt,_

_Everything is gonna be okay."_

She remembered her fear that she would go back into foster care, frightened of what people would adopt a blind girl . Lock her up, use her like she had been used her whole life?

_"Finally I find when I lose control,_

_Inside my body crumbles._

_It's like therapy For my broken soul._

_Inside my body crumbles"_

She remembers the words she spoke to the counselor, the only thing she had ever said. It was their last session before she had stopped going.

"_**It's okay to be myself**_."

_"I don't know if I'll be alright!_

_I don't know if I'll be alright !_

_Why do we have to fight!_

_I don't know if I'll be alright !_

_I don't know if I'll be alright!_

_Try to realize I don't know if I'll be alright ._

_Now I know It's alright!_

_Finally I find when I lose control,_

_Inside my body crumbles._

_It's like therapy,_

_For my broken soul ._

_Inside my body..._

_Finally I find when I lose control ,_

_Inside my body crumbles._

_It's like therapy for my broken soul._

_Inside my body crumbles."_

She played the last few riffs, before settling back into her seat. She couldn't see the gaping look Reza had, as he admired her work. Or the look Nadir was casting her, through the glass door of the music room. She took a seat at the piano, and checked it's tuning quickly. She then started in on another song, hoping nobody was paying too close attention to her.

_"Moon hangs around._

_A blade over my head,_

_Reminds me what to do before I'm dead._

_Night consumes light and all I dread. _

_Reminds me what to do before I'm dead."_

She paused for dramatic effect, smiling when she heard Reza play the beat, letting her sing, and not worry about the playing.

"_The sun reclines ,_

_Eats my mind ._

_Reminds me what to leave behind ._

_Light eats night and all I never said._

_Reminds me what to do before I'm…_

_To see you.._

_To touch you.._

_To see you .._

_To touch you.."_

Nadir and Reza marveled at her voice, which encompassed and absorbed them . She drew out the notes, a haunting lullaby seducing the Khan men.

_"Epochs fly, reminds me what I hide, _

_Reminds me,the desert skies _

_Cracks the spies._

_Reminds me what I never tried ._

_The ocean wide salted red,_

_Reminds me what to do before I'm…_

_To see you.. _

_To touch you.._

_To feel you.._

_To tell you.._

_The sun reclines ,_

_remind me._

_The desert skies ,_

_remind me._

_The ocean wide salted red._

_Reminds me what to do before I'm…"_

Nadir felt like the haunting song was for mourning, and in one brief moment, he was reminded of his beaufitul , dead wife.

_"See you .._

_Touch you .._

_Feel you .._

_Tell you..."_

Reza let the notes drift off, as the bell rang. Christine gathered up her backpack. She left the room, not noticing Nadir running from the hallway.

The rest of the day went by, a plague of whispers and apoligetic words. She made her way to the parking lot. Leaning against her cane, she waited for Erik. It was always a relief to have someone with her who didn't baby her, Erik being one of them. He treated her the same as always, expecting her to do more, even. She had to clean her room, do her own laundry, cook dinner.

She was stunned from her reverie by a bony hand clasping her wrist. She knew Erik when she felt him. He was in a bad mood, practically throwing her into the passenger seat, before getting in and pealing ut of the parking lot.

Driving down the highway, he was cursing under his breath, the tension in him making Christine uneasy. They pulled into the driveway, Christine getting out and unlocking the door, while Erik slammed the cardoor loud enough to tear it off it's hinges. They entered, Christine dropping her things in her room, while Erik took a seat in the family room.

She knew how this would go, they would argue, then he would feel better. It almost always happened that way. She didn't know what he did during the day, considering he forbid her the information, but it almost always left him pissed off. She changed into a pair of black silk sleeping pants, returning to the family room, and seating herself. She wrapped her arms around her knees, eyes focused on where she thought he was.

" So, what crawled up your ass and died?"

She could almost feel the rage in his tone, as he answered." Maybe what crawled up my ass and died, as you say, is the fact that I am taking care of a useless crippled girl who has no decorum. Or manners, as a matter of fact"

She shrugged her shoulders, not allowing it to effect her. The truth was the truth, after all.

" Well, it could be because your a bastard and nobody likes you. After all, when one is lonely, they take what they can get."

"Really? Is that why you whored yourself out with your principal, my dear? And I thought it was just because you were loose. At least he had the common sense to refuse you, we wouldn't want anything bad to happen to him, after all."

She was frozen to her seat, as Erik's angry bootheels clicked way. She slumped over, lertting the sobs overtake her. Why couldn't people just leave her be? How dare he call her a whore! One moment of comfort, and she was fucked over again!  
She ran into the music room, glad that Erik had wandered off. She let the angry tears burn her sensitive, dry eyes.

_"I'm over it._

_You see I'm falling in the vast abyss._

_Clouded by memories of the past ,_

_At last I see.."_

She remembered all the fighting, all the horrible words they slung at each other. But never once had he actually meant them, till then.

_"I hear it fading,_

_I can't speak it,_

_Or else you will dig my grave. _

_You feel them finding, always whining ._

_Take my hand now be alive._

_You see I cannot be forsaken,_

_Because I'm not the only one._

_We walk amongst you feeding, raping._

_Must we hide from everyone?"_

She let the words fall from her lips, tears and rage pouring from her with each syllable.

_"I'm over it ._

_Why can't we be together embrace it?_

_Sleeping so long taking off the mask At last I see.."_

The mask, the one thing she would never see, the horror beneath it. She was almost glad. It had eliminated the tense nature he had about it. Being blind did have a few upsides.

_ "My fear is fading,_

_I can't speak it ,_

_Or else you will dig my grave._

_You feel them finding, always whining._

_Take my hand now be alive._

_You see I cannot be forsaken,_

_Because I'm not the only one._

_We walk amongst you, feeding, raping._

_Must we hide from everyone?_

_Everyone.._

_Everyone.."_

She decided to return to her room, wiping her eyes.

She didn't notice Erik remove himself from the music-room later, a look of absolute horror on his face.

Hope you guys liked it. Read and reveiw.-Krys


	6. Chapter 6

I would like to thank all the reveiwers for their sweet comments. Especially EriksDarkLullaby. She is my inspiration sometimes, really. Now to answer soem questions, or answer some of my reviewers back.

**Paige:** I am glad you like this. I am not too into AU myself, in Poto's case. And I abhor Mary Sues, no matter what the category. If you have only seen the ALW movie, I should have made it clear at the beginning of the story. Nadir is from the Susan Kay book ,Phantom. He is based on Leroux's character, The Persian. I happen to be in love with him currently. The fighting between Erik and Christine IS their relationship, at present.

**Yoya**: Yes, It grossed me out too. But I was in a very bad mood. To tell you a secret, I write these things blind. Plot outlines are for pussies, lol. I go with my flow, and it makes the story far less forced sounding. I do not know if they will 'fuck'. I haven't decided yet.

**The Century Child:** Thank you, and yes I will count your review for all my chapters, as it was very flattering, lol. And yes, Erik's last name may have been inspired by the Countesses. Actually, a plan to use a song with a title similar to his last name sometime soon. When the plot thickens.

**Kagome1514:** I am glad you remember me now , heh! And yes, I have been staving off of Inu fics because they are platry, and have no original plot anymore. Sigh.Thank you for correcting my japanese. I am definitely not the best at it. I probably will email you soon, once my legs stop shaking. After all you are one of my favorite authors!

**Erik'sTrueAngel:** I thought it would be better, to keep the retearded fop from certain death. Raoul annoys me. Nadir though, seems a healthy candidate for Christine's affection. Ahh, I can see it now. A shirt with 'Nadir is for Lovers'. Yay.

**Erik'sDarkLullaby**: I eagerly await your next review! I am glad you approve of Nadir. So few people actually think of him as a love interest for Christine, but like you pointed out, why would be go through so much to save her if there weren't feelings involved? And yes, we both seem to have a very dark current of thought. But the unique thing is that we seem to find beauty in it. I am glad I am not the only odd one. Oh! The Helena music video is on. One moment... It reminds me of the Nightmare Before Christmas. I love that movie, lol. Sorry for the rambling, doves. Oh, and to **Ripper De La Blackstaff**, and the other's on my alert list, thank you for being interested even if you don't review. It touches me to know you think highly enough of this story to want to read it continuously.

Now, on with the show.

Noises

Christine let the rapping of the boy's pencil distract her, and that should have been her first clue. Then it started. She could hear Meg Giry humming the tune to some new song, even though she was cross the room. Someone was chewing gum. Another was whispering rather loudly.

She felt the familiar dizziness that accompanied this, and immediately stood. Usually a perfectly shot glare in their general direction would get them to stop, but she wasn't in the mood. Ever since Erik had threatened Naidr, she had felt both angry, and worried. After all, she knew nothing about Erik, besides that he was rich, bitchy at times, and a excellent musician. Nadir, even though he had pushed her away, as a much nicer man then anyone knew.

She asked for a pass to the nurses, rushing out of the room, hearing the distinct buzz of her headache grinding through her skull.. It happened occasionally, as the doctors said.Her hearing improving to the point where listening actually hurt. She thought she heard the drone of her teacher, even though her paces told her she was at the end of their hallway.

She made her way, schooling her eyes into a position where she didn't look like she was staring into space. It was common, for people who didn't see her with her cane, to assume she wasn't visually impaired. After all, she didn't let her handicap shallow her personality. Most people whispered things, things about her not caring. She cared about seeing, how could she not? She thought about the rock garden, The oceans she had visited with her mother and father, before life went wrong.

She closed her eyes, as a memory shocked through her, the words making her haed pound . She felt like someone was hammering her skull in.

_It was dark in the room, Christine haveing just awoken. She tugged at her restraints, trying in vain to get loose. She thought she heard a distorted chuckle from the other side of the room, as she gasped. She had brushed a painfully sore rib against her bindings._

_" So, awake, my little diva? I had thought you weaker then that. After all, those smarmy little school-boys broke a rib or two. Good thing you are still intact, or else you would have a few friends joining you tongiht."_

_" Who the fuck are you! If this is some sick joke, it isn't funny! Let me go damn it"  
She felt a sharp slap to the face, licking the blood from her lip. She tensed when a hand slid up her leg, slowly travelling agaisnt her hip. Suddenly, she felt pain, and a slight tinge of arousal fill her. He had damn near twisted her nipple off._

_The man took a handful of hair, tugging her head back. It was absolutely dark in the cold place, she thought. She fouht quickly though, when she felt him strap her neck down. That's what this was.. a torture chamber. Or so it seemed. She shook like a frightened fawn, as she felt something being placed over her nose and mouth._

_" Calm yourself, love. It is for your protection, I promise it will come off when I'm done. Now, I must ask you a question. No, don't cry. Now, which you you prefer, eyes, or voice"  
He had sounded almost caring, as he poured the burning substance into her eyes. She could feel the black become permanent, fusing her with the darkness she claimed to love so much._

_Her screams echoed from the chamber. Too bad nobody was there to hear ._

She awoke screaming, running her hands along her eyes and face. Flailing her arms about, she made sure she wasn't bound, before getting her bearings. She heard nothing, but soft violin music. Erik's. someone must have found her, and called her guardian. She checked, making sure her clothing was in perfectly arranged, and soothed out her curls.

She found herself in the music room, listening to the restless tune he was playing. She sat down on the floor, feeling her way down the wall, letting herself get comfortable. He would ask her eventually. Best to wait for it, after all, she got a few concert out of the deal. Smelling the air, it reeked of pinesol. Someone had taken the liberty of cleanign the dust from the paino. Bleh. She thought she was gonna die from the reek.

He finished the last note, savoring the sharp, yet still melodious note, before speaking to the girl. " How is it you have only been in school three weeks and already you have been sent home? You weren't stabbing people again, I hope? After all, there are only so many times you can do that and still have it deemed self defense."

Christine chuckled, a sarcastic twang in it." No, oh dear Maestro. It was just another headache." She fiddled with her fings, trying to see if her nail polish had chipped during the day.  
"There is something you are not speaking of, Christine. It was a blackout too, wasn't it?"

She shrugged, scratching her left temple." So what if it was. It wasn't as bad as before. Maybe if someone didn't go around spying on me it would not have happened."

She swore she heard his nails dig into the wood of the violin, as it clattered to a small table. He took a seat in the chair across the room. " Well, if certain faculty members were respectible enough to keep their hands off of students, I would not have had to spy, as you so rudely deem it. "

She got to her feet, making an indecipherable noise under her breathe. " What do you call it then, you asshole!"

She heard his legs against the floor, as he approached." I call it looking out for your best interests. After all, someone has to."

She swung an arm out before touching her chest." I can take care of myself! I'm not some little mouse, no matter what you think! I have managed just fine, and I am fine! I won't let you or anyone else take that away! I'm still me! **Damn you**! **I'm still Christine**!"

She tried to run, only to find her feet twist under her. She had, in her hurry, lost her way. She struggled to get to her feet, feeling a sinking hatred fill her chest. She couldn't see what was up or down, she didn't know! She stretched ou her arms, trying to find an anchor, something to stop te panic in her.

Erik watched as the girl ran, tripping in the hallway. She seemed frightened, her glossy eyes wide, as she stumbled around, not being to close to anything. She had lost herself to her handicap, for the first time since the hospital. Erik could see the repressed teror she had held within her, as she knocked into the walls, falling to the floor again. She sobbed in releif. She had found a hard surface.

Letting her breathing slow. she finally felt the spinning, airless anguish fill her stomach. It was a familiar depression. It was felt every mornig, when the birds sang to a new day, and she was left in the midnight. Every night, when she would be almost asleep, and feel so alone that it nearly killed her. Before, it had been so different. She didn't want anything, just solitude. Now, all she needed was someone to describe a sunset for her.

It felt like something had torn her soul from her abdomn, and replaced it with an empty, gaping maw. She picked herself up from the floor, forgetting Erik in her haste to return to her room. She found her way, her legs about to give out as she jumped on the bed.

She laid back, letting herself think. That was another thing about being blind, she supposed. She didn't know when she slept, or if she slept at all. She couldn't even feel the urge to sing, as she cloded her eyes, letting herself be overtaken my her pain.

She was in Poetry the next day, scribbling away. Assignment: Write a poem about something that makes you angry. That was easy enough. She stood when called, her movements crisp and hurried. She looked into the eyes of her audience. Well, what she saw was a big black blur. But she knew they were there. And she read.

_"I am just another fool,  
And I have to,  
Keep telling myself that.  
I am just a hypocrite,  
And I have to, Keep calling you one.  
And I forgot to bite my tongue,  
As my assumption,  
Is the mother of all mistakes.  
So I assume the role,  
Open my mouth, And clumsy words escape._

_So why you, wanna to be there, when you could be here,  
you are slipping away._

_I awake with your replacement, a bottle in my grasp,  
in an unfamiliar place._

_Because you put me out,  
The butt of a sick joke,  
into this ashtray life._

_As you come and go,  
Cause I forgot to service you,  
And we broke down."_

_She remembered her mother's face that day, the rain pouring over them both. It had been beautiful, even though it had torn out the woman's heart._

_"And you can't live with my mistakes, but I assume false grace._

_Open my arms and grasp at something true._

_I bring out the worst in you, and you try to let me know._

_You bring out the worst in me, Anxiety, anxiety._

_I'm trying to let you go,  
You say I'm giving you the creeps._

_So I assume the role,  
open my claws and grasp for your heart_

_Into you like a mortal stake, so vindictive"_

She heard them in her head. Her father's violin, as well as Eriks'. The two men who had been able to tear down the walls she carried around her. Her father, with his presence. Erik, by beating them down, ripping her security blanket from her, and throwing her away, like garbage.

_"Your love's slipping away._

_Violins, into this ashtray life._

_Violins, the butt of your sick joke._

_Violins, I'm trying hard to let you go._

_Violins.."_

She walked to the car. He had chosen a parking spot to frequent. She would be able to find him, and not just twiddle her thumbs like an idiot till he arrived. Or so he had said. She opened the car door, leaning back against the seats, as she sighed. Things were going to be tense, she knew.She heard him start the car, but just as he was about to pull out, someone called her name.

Turning her head, as if she could determine their presence, she smiled. Meg Giry. Orange blossoms . She asked the girl what she needed, surpised when she felt a rectangular object pushed into her hands.

" It's your poetry notebook. You forgot it when you left. guess you must have been thinking really hard." The girl paused for a moment, seeming shy, before speaking so fast Christine was sure even Erik hadn't caught up.

"Um, care to repeat that, Meg"

She could almost smell the girls fear rolling off of her. " Would you.. would you like to come over for my birthday? It's in a few weeks, and.. well.. Your the only one who has never stared, you know." Christine felt the sadness in her voice. Of course. She had no friends, just like Christine had none. They were too unique for that, she supposed. tugging on a dirt clored lock, she smiled, trying to keep it from clashing with her eyes, and making her look like a serial killer. " I would like that. After all, if we celebrated in public, they might just lock us in a cage and charge everyone for admission."

Christine was surprised to hear the Giry girl laugh at this. Meg thanked her, and handed her a paper with the address of her home. They hit the highway, probably the only road in the world that was five laned in the town. Two went one way, two the other. The middle was reserved for turns. They tended to call it the Suicide Lane.

" It is nice to see that your sour personality hasn't kept away all possible company." Erik remarked casually, as he tried to keep them from being turned into road sushi. He was trying to calm the waters between them. Not happening.

"Yes, after all, I wouldn't want to be like you, now would I?" She turned her face away from him, forgetting the notebook. He grabbed it from the car, letting her tromp off into her bedroom. She was very sulky lately, after her little panic attack.

He settled in a comfortable chair, flipping open the book. He had taught her braille after all, he sould know how to read it. His amber eyes widened, twin pools of honey, as he read the passionate pleas she screamed. With every word on the pages he read, she yearned for human touch. Human compassion.

He flipped through dozens of blank pages, until he saw that on the back cover, she had written another. It Read:

Last Year's Nest.  
_Discontent as life is,our mechanism's deviate.  
Rust debrided inspires change,and leaves behind exhausted dreams- Ignition Engaged.  
So save your wishes for the sky, diluted and disgused, as a perfect fuel that won't ignite.  
But hope will heal us all.  
Set to action our forward thought,  
The truth for so long can only hide.  
In shadows of our own design-Amend and Revise.  
A wish will leave you empty handed -Hope will Provide.  
Shun your responsibilities-And Lead an Empty Life.  
A dream alone will bear no seed-Hope is Alive.  
And wishes will leave you.  
Dead and Buried.  
Lost and Forgotten.  
With your Lives._

He let the notebook hit the floor as he rushed away. He needed to get away from the girl. She was inspiring emotions in him he couldn't afford, not with the mission so close. it hovered on the edge of a knife.

He couldn't let her interfere. The towers would come down on schedule. Not even she could stop that.

Nadir watched, as Christine and Reza spoke about a song. His son ad taken quite the shine to the girl, both of them teaching the other about playing tactics. He had decided to speak with her, to apoligize for forcing himself on her He decided to let them finish though. He loved the sound of her voice.

_"Part of me won't go away,_

_Everyday reminded how much I hate it._

_Weighted against the consequences ._

_Can't live without it ,so it's senseless._

_Wanna cut it out of my soul,_

_And just live with a gaping hole._

_Take control of my life,_

_And wash out all the burnt taste._

_I made the problems in the first place._

_Hang my head low 'cause it's part of me,_

_Ya hardly see right next to the heart of me._

_Heard of me the routine scar._

_New cuts cover where the old ones are._

_And now I'm sick of this._

_I can't stand the sandpaper thoughts that grate away on my sanity._

_I rather not even be then the person that's staring in the mirror through me._

_Cut myself free willingly. Stop just what's killing me ._

_I feel it everyday_

_I feel I made my way._

_I feel it swell up inside, swell up inside._

_Swallowing me._

_It can't be frightening if you've never felt it._

_Once it's been dealt with you feel like you've been touched by something angelic._

_And then melted down into a pool of peace,_

_Cease to be the animal you used to be._

_Remove the broken parts you know were wrong._

_And feel the karma when the problem's all gone._

_And then you start to see another piece of yourself that you can't let be,_

_And that reason'll last fight to free yourself._

_Take it to the depths of the bottom of the well._

_And now you know you can choose to lose the part in your heart,_

_Where your insides bruise._

_You can live if you're willing to,_

_Put a stop to just what's killing you._

_Alive in me, inside of me, a part of me screams away silently ._

_This part of me won't go away, part of me won't go away._

_Everywhere I look around I see how everyone aught to be._

_Every time I see myself I see there's always something wrong with me._

_I feel it swell up inside, swell up inside, swallowing me ."_

They let the tune take them over. Christine had shown him the words and basic rythme and allowed Reza to tweak it. The bell signalled their departure, Christine throwing her pack over her arm, as she ran face first into Nadir Khan's chest. " I seem to run into you alot less now that you kissed me. I'm sorry if I offended you"

She brushed past him, feeling the skin on his arm get goosebumps. A smile smile flared on her face, as she exited the classroom. He was at her heels, trying to speak with her. She opened a door, pushing him into a dimly lit hall closet. She squeezed in, pressing against him. He bit his lip to keep himself from groaning.

"What do you want, Nadir? Because the last time I checked, you were pushing me away, and babbling about apoligies. I have no regrets. After all, I only kiss people I am attracted to." She crossed her arms, as though that mad eher case very clear.

Nadir looked at her, here, in the dim. Her hair flowing around her, tight cloths, and beautiful, moonlight-like eyes.Eyes that wouldn't judge him. She licked her lips, a act of nerves, most likely. He felt himself give in, pushing her against the dusty wall.

She wrapped her hips around his, giving him herself in the kiss. The forbidden, wrong, perfect kiss.

Sorry guys, had to do that. Again, it is essential to the plot. And yes, what happened in the closet was NC-17. Read and Reveiw.-Krys


	7. Chapter 7

Hello there. I was bored again today, and finished my online class, so I figured I would update.

Well, **Erik'sDarkLullaby** and **Kagome1514 **left quite nice reveiws. I got a few that were slightly puzzling, but damn it people, I am only human.Now, to answer you back.

**Erik'sDarkLullaby:** Again, your review made me slightly weepy! Thank you for reading Toujours Pur, as well. I didn't know if you would like it, so I was being modest till I could get it working!Yay! Nightmare before christmas! Maybe we could do a pic like that one day. Erik in the costume..Very Grr. And Christine in the patchy outfi1, looking all wide eyed. Sexy. I hope you can hijack another laptop soon, as your reviews really inspire me!

**Kagome1514:** I know, alot of people don't like the Nadir and Christine interaction. But really, if I decide to get them together, I hope you will all understand. It isn't in the plan right now, considering it is an E/C fic.Sorry, but betas.. I tried one once and it didn't work out well. I am kinda hesitant to take up another. Plus, I am really shy. I would need a volunteer.I didn't mean your Inu fics! Yours mesmerize me really! I hope I didn't offend.

**Ripper De La Blackstaff:** Nadir will most definitely get either a verbal assault or a physical one. I appreiciate your review!

**GiGi:** If you don't like the story, don't read it. My story makes perfect sense. And, I am sorry, but here is a news flash for you. The Phantom of the Opera isn't some little Tragic Romance. It is a story of betrayal, lust, fixation, and angst. I am following the thread perfectly. Maybe it is you who doesn't quite get it. As a friend of mine told me not too long ago "Life is not filled with rainbows and prancing ponies." Thank you for your review.

**Kazakichick:** Yes, it does seem to make you feel better, doesn't it? It's almost like when a friend or relative tells you about how miserable you are, and your first thought is Thank god the wasn't me! I appreicaite your esteem.

**The Century Child:** Yay! Yep, the song is beautiful. I have to save it until Christine .. well youll see. :grins:

**Erik'sTrueAngel:** You will find out who Christines rapist is. Maybe. I don't know yet. And it wasn't just a kiss, lol. I figured I would let Christine have a little wanted experience. After all, I wouldn't throw a virgin at Erik ever! Lol. I am such a bitch.

**BelacaniOnTheRez:** Thank you! I am glad you like it! Sometimes simple phrases make you feel so good.

**Paige:** Yes, Raoul is a little bastard, lol. If It fit into the story, I really would kill him. Look on the bright side though, he got stabbed..

Poor Christine. Really Nadir, a dingy hall closet? Such is life, I suppose..

_"..All men would be tyrants, if they could..."-Abigail Adams_

She made her way to the bus, Meg making sure she didn't fall down the steep stairs as they got on.She was supposed to have Erik drive her there, but he had been colder then usual, the past week. He had refused to give her a lift to the Giry home, saying he had better things to do then Chauffer a silly girl.

They sat next to each other, occasionally speaking, but mostly just enjoying the quiet. Meg turned to her so swiftly the hair almost hit her, and begain to speak. " Christine, I'm sorry for not speaking to you for so long. I mean.. After the accident I wanted to speak to you. Oh god, that sounds so stupid. What I mean is, I have always wanted to talk to you, but I didn't have the nerve. You were always so rude to everyone, not that they deserved anything less, with the way they treated you."

Christine didn't let her startled expression show, instead choosing to change the topic." You know, those two girls who always stared at you in math? Yvonne and Bianca? They are anorexic. And they are a couple, if you didn't know"  
"No! You can't be serious! They have boyfriends!"

The girls chatted from there on in, allowing a happy atmosphere surround them. It made Christine feel a little more normal, just talking to another female. Sure, Erik and she had their little dramas, but she did crave a little companionship outside of arguement once in a while. Besides, since her mother died, she hadn't been close to anyone.

She let Meg take her hand as they slowly got off the mobile twinkie. Maybe this is what she needed, a little bit of contact. Outside of her and Nadir's little sessions. Ever since that day, they had been meeting in the closet, doing their business, and leaving. No speaking, no extra touches.

Meg lead her to the door, opening it with a loud manner she hadn't often seen the girl show.She giggled, yanking Christine into the kitchen. Or what must have been a kitchen. The smell of percolated coffee gave it away, after all.  
"Let's go to my room, after all, mom isn't gonna be home for awhile. Want something to eat?"

Christine shook her head, laughing as Meg made grunting noises. She could feel the girls feet striking the floor. "Trying to get something? Here."

Christine felt Meg's outstretched arm, following it until she brushed past, gripping a noisy abg. She handed them to the blonde, before smiling. "Chips? What kind?"

"You.. but.. your blind."

The one sentence shocked Christine into silence. She frowned, before turning her back on the girl.Her voice came out like ground glass." That doesn't mean I need pity. Unlike some people, I don't let bad luck ruin me. Being blind doesn't mean I can't get around when I want."

Christine tried to find the doorknob, flinching when Meg's hand wrapped around her own. "Please don't leave! I didn't mean it like that. It's just amazing that you can do these things. I mean..If it was me, I wouldn't be able to get past it."

Christine decided to drop it, taking the girls hand and letting her lead the way. They reached a hallway, christine knew, as she took her hand, running her fingers over the solid mass. Meg opened the door, letting Christine go in before her. Christine took a seat at the bed, Meg guiding her to it. It was nice to be coddled, once in a while.

"Would you describe it for me?"

Meg knew that Christine wanted, and answered . She knew it took all of the girls courage to swallow her pride and ask. "It's light pink. Dark wood furniture. The bed is a four poster. Does it feel comfortable to you, or would you prefer the living room? Cause if you do we cou-"

"It is fine Meg. It is comfortable. Besides it smells nice. Since that is my predominant sense, I happen to think this room is very comfy." She laid back on the bed, first feeling to make sure she was sitting on it correctly enough for such an action. If she could have seen Meg's face, it was a look of curiosity.

"Can I ask what it smells like?" Christine laughed, before turning in the direction of the girls voice. Her dark curls fell in front of her, giving Meg a perfect view of the tops of her breasts. Meg thought she felt a slight stirring within her, but shrugged it off. She was jealous, hers were slightly smaller.

" You smell like Orange blossoms. But your room smells more like pumpkin seeds."

They talked for a while, before eating a light dinner. Meg was about to clear the table when Christine pulled something from her pocket. It waasn't wrapped. A small purple jewelry box rested in her hand. "Happy Birthday."

Meg reached for it, opening the top slowly. Inside where orange citrine earrings. They were shaped like blossoms, tiny flower petals floating up from the base.There were three tiny posts on the backs. She had known Meg had three ear peircings, which were close together. She felt guilty then, about what she was going to have to do.

"Thank you Christine. They are great!" She put them in, feeling extremely elegant. They spoke until late into the nigth, Mrs. Giry calling to tell them she wouldn't be home till the next day.

* * *

Christine awoke to the heat of the sun on her face. She could smell dew as well. Odd. She reached up a hand to rub her eyes. Since they were dry most of the time, they were always fuzzy feeling when she woke, regardless of vision or not. She was cold, so she reached down to pull the covers back up.

When her hands met sticky flesh, she felt a cold calm settle in her. She breathed in deeply. She was outside. Ouside naked. Outside, naked, and covered in what appeared to be glue and something soft. Probably feathers.

A ringing noise startled her, as she grabbed for the noise. She struck true, and felt the cell phone someone had placed on the cold cement. She flipped it open, holding it far enough from her ear so that it wouldn't get covered in muck.

"Who is this?"

" Hey _freak_. It's nice to know you finally woke up. After all it is almost noon."

Her brows creased, before she shreiked into the phone."Who the fuck is this!"

She heard laughter. That fucking bitch.Or bastard.

"You probably know by now that little_ Meggy_ set you up. And you thought you had a friend. Well, I suggest you stay where you are. It might be thought of as an artistic statemnt, a naked slut covered in scars and purple feathers. Not that you care about the color. Hope you like the trim, by the way."

When the line went dead, Christine shorted out her furious deadly thoughts. Trim? What trim?

She felt along her arms and legs. No hair. Not even a little fuzz. SHe touched her face. No eyebrows.. Her crotch. No hair..

She tentatively reached out, grasping her scalp. Someone had hacked off her beautiful curls. She had a small amount of hair, the bottom half of her head shaved down, so her hair would look boyish. She couldn't even appreiciate the fact that it wasn't all gone. It was worse then rape. Worse then the humiliation of having someone lead her around like a pet.

She remembered then. Right before they had went to bed, Meg had offered a small glass of wine, to celebrate the birthday. They had gulped it down, before retiring for the night. The little bitch had poisoned her! She had set her up, and let somebody do this to her.

She felt so humiliated. She wondered who it was, who would do soemthing like this to her. She wondered who had touched her, if they had enjoyed themselves.If they had raped her.She honestly didn't care.

* * *

Two hours later, Raoul Chagny found her there. Covered in feathers, dried glue. She was staring off, those blank eyes making him feel so much guilt. He was a dick, but he also didn't think the girl deserved it. She had a cell clutched in her hand. For some reason, nobody had reported here. It was a small park after all.

He approached her quickly, not touching her though. Last time he had it hadn't gone too well for him. "Christine. Are you alright?"

She turned those sad eyes up at him, her lack of hair really scaring him. "No Raoul. I'm not"  
He picked his cell from a pocket, dialing quickly.

"Phillipe? Yeah, do you think you could find the number of an Erik Bathory for me? Yes it's important. Cause the girl he takes care of is fucking naked in the park! Thanks." He dailed the number his brother had given, wincign when a low, almost cliche; sinister voice answered.

"Bathory"  
"Uh. Can you get to Cherry Down Park? It's an emergency"  
"Who is this"  
"Raoul Chagny. "  
"If you touched her I will fucking tear your head off and piss on your ashes! Do you hear me! They won't be able to find you ever"  
"Hey you fucking nutball, I just found her here. So hurry the fuck up before I end the mercy mission and leave her for the birds!"

He slammed the phone shut, tucking it away. He puled off his overshirt, his favorite American Eagle shirt, and quickly dressed Christine in it. She wouldn't use her own limbs, so it was akward. When finished he sighed. Now it was only a matter of waiting.

* * *

Erik was astonished when he saw them. Christine was wearing a long yellow shirt, obviously the idiots'. Said idiot was sitting on the bench, straight backed and tense. He was wearing only an A-shirt and a piar of baggy jeans. So baggy that Erik could easily fashion a noose out of them.

Raoul bolted up when Erik appeared. He had seen the man in court, and remembered the strange mask. He was pushed back down, as Erik stooped above him." Tell me what happened."

"I told you, I was walking over to a friends. I saw her just fucking sitting there, naked, looking like someone popped a damn sleeper in her drink. I asked her if she was fine, and eh just said no! Then I was nice enough to call you, you fucking psycho. I gave her my shirt and waited. now I think I will be leaving. Fucking soap opera, this is!"

Erik let the boy stand and start to walk away, before speaking. " You should still feel guilty you know. This doesn't make up for anything."

Raoul watched the man lift Christine effortlessly. He took one step, then other. He stopped, turning back. " _**I know**_."

Then, without a second thought, Chagny walked away.

* * *

Erik finished cleaning the rest of the substance from Christine. The girl didn't speak, and neither did he. Silence was best, considering every time he opened his mouth, she rebelled. If only she knew. If she knew what seeing her like this was doing to him. She was perfect, scars, no eyebrows and all.

He drained the tub, pullingher to her feet. He rubbed her lotion into her skin, trying desperately not to lose his composure.Regardless of his sexual feelings, she was in a extremely delicate state. he should not have assumed the Giry girl was friendly. He had been an idiot, and she had suffered for it.

He knew about her little trysts with the principal, deigning it a dead subject between them. He had a surprise for the man, and it would come all too soon. He put the lavander vial down, titling her head at an angle, and applying her medicinal eyedrops. Selecting a slightly revealing silk nightgown, he dressed her. He dared not give the girl undergarments. After all, getting anywhere near those regions of the body would be his undoing.

He lifted her into his arms again, travelling to the music room. Placing her in a soft fluffly chair, he sat down. It was time to sing, not to speak. He picked out a song he had written for her.

Reedeemer. If only the girl knew the truth behind the lyrics.

_"Walking,  
Waiting,  
Alone without a care.  
Hoping,  
And hating.  
Things that I can't bear._

_Did you think it's right?  
To walk right up,  
To take my life And fuck it up.  
Well did you?  
Well did you?_

_I see hell in your eyes Taken in by surprise.  
Touching you makes me feel alive.  
Touching you makes me die inside."_

_Christine heard something. What was it? It sounded so beautiful. The sound of Bathory's voice filled her, easing none of the wounds in her. But it was a dark, delicious song. She fell for the bait of his trap, her eyes showing a small amount of lust in them. Lust and life._

_"Walking, Waiting.  
Alone without a care.  
Hoping,  
And hating.  
Things that I can't bear._

_Did you think it's cool?  
To walk right up,  
To take my life And fuck it up!  
Well did you?"_

Christine let the hatred , the pain, and the burning need fill her voice, as she joined her voice with his. It was too perfect. A union of high and low, between the flames of hell and the dark of night.

_"I hate you!_

_I see hell in your eyes,  
Taken in by surprise.  
And touching you makes me feel alive!  
Touching you makes me die inside_."

She approached him for the first time, her lips mimicking his words. She knew what he was about to sing beforeshe even belted the words. they stood, locked in a battle with each other. Erik knew now why they hadn't made any progress. She needed someone to cling to. Someone to know she wasn't worthless.

_"I've slept so long without you It's tearing me apart too._

_How'd it get this far?  
Playing games with this old heart.  
I've killed a million petty souls ._

_**But I couldn't kill you."**_

****

Erik let his arm glide toward her, ever so slowly. When his fingertips touched burning skin, hot under her sheer nightclothes, he felt something tug within him. She felt whispered of his hot breath against her cheek, his lips ghosting across the pulse of her neck.

"_I've slept so long without you_!

_I see hell in your eyes._

_Taken in by surprise ._

_Touching you makes me feel alive!_

_Touching you makes me die inside_."

She closed her eyes, a murmur of plasure escaping her, as those lips crashed into her own, like the waved hitting the shore. And it erased all hesitancy. It was almost like being struck by lightning.Pure energy sizzling through her. His hand drifted to her hair, to stroke those soft curls.

She remembered herself then. Pushing him away, she whiped her mouth off with the back of her hand. She didn't have her cane, but she wasn't trying to leave. She brought herself to her senses, strode up to his still form, still breathing rather heavily.

Erik felt the blazing loss he hadgrown accustomed to long ago. What he didn't expect was the slap that landed lopsidedly against his cheeck, knocking his immaculate white mask from him. With a yell like thunder, she felt her head strike something, as he shoved her violently.

" How dare you! I give you the gift of my music, of my darkness, and you still deny me! How dare you remove this!"

She heard him scurrying for the mask, deep hurt cutting her features. " Why does it matter to you"

The noises died off, suggesting to her that he had regained his composure."_What did you say_?"

"I asked why, Erik. You dn't have to wear that thing around me, it isn't like I can see what's wrong with your face. Why do you care? Or is it like seeing? A security blanket, something you can't forget. You where my security blanket too , you know. I thought you hated me, but put up with my attitude because you cared. I trusted you. "

She stood, ignoring the knot on the back of her head. she felt her way to the door, opening it, and stepping into the long hall. She had her eyes downcast, and her vioce broke, as she left him with words to shame him. To shame him like he had shamed Raoul.

"_** But your just like everyone else**_."

He didn't hear the door close, or hear her run from the house. He, Erik, had never been compared to the rest of the human race before. Ever.  
And, for the first time in his miserable existence, he wished he wasn't .

* * *

She waited at the end of the driveway, until the cab she had called pulled up. She used their services to get to doctors appointments when Erik was away. He had a tab with them, and she used it to her advantage. She asked the driver to drop her off somewhere. When they pulled up, she smiled, slamming the door. She would never forget this house.

Opening the door, she climbed the steps. opening the cleear door, she entered the top room of the old, abandoned house. She opened the window then, groaning in pain when she bashed her knees against the sill. She climbed out onto the sqaure roof, till she found the edge. She knelt down, letting her feet dangle over the edge.

Her old house. The house her mother had lived in. The house her father had lived in. The house she had been beaten and raped in. The house where her father had murdered her mother. The house where her mother had committed suicide. Her father hadn't liked the fact that mother had a lover. He liked it even less when he found out what the bastard was doing to Christine, when mother was asleep.

She decided to sing for them, the parents she loved and hated. To sing a song of sorrow.

_"The stars will cry_

_The blackest tears tonight._

_And this is the moment that I live for, I can smell the ocean air._

_And here I am,_

_Pouring my heart onto these rooftops ._

_Just a ghost to the world ._

_That's exactly_

_Exactly what I need_.

_From up here the city lights burn ,_

_Like a thousand miles of fire ._

_And I'm here to sing this anthem _

_Of our dying day._

_For a second I wish the tide _

_Would swallow every inch of this city _

_As you gasp for air tonight._

_I'd scream this song right in your face If you were here ._

_I swear I won't miss a beat ._

_Cause I never Never have before._

_From up here the city lights burn,_

_Like a thousand miles of fire._

_And I'm here to sing this anthem_

_Of our dying day._

Of our dying day ..

Of our dying day .

Of our dying!

_For a second I wish the tide_

_Would swallow every inch of this city_

_And you gasp for air tonight!_

_From up here the city lights burn_

_Like a thousand miles of fire._

_And I'm here to sing this anthem _

_Of our dying day._

_Our dying day ."_

She opened her eyes, still seeing the empty twilight. The darkness of her dreams. She stood on the ledge. Spreading her arms wind open, she jumped.

She hit the grass rolling. It was exactly as she remembered. She had taken to jumping from her low roof when she was young. She called the taxi company back, and snuck into her room. Her room at Eric's house.

* * *

She didn't speak, on the ride to the school. He actually turned on some classical. She left him there, wthout a word. He seemed to be thinking. She exited the car.  
Sometimes, words just didn't fix anything.

* * *

She felt Nadir shove her into the closet, ripping at her clothes. She felt his hnad sflicker, touching her breast, touching without reverence. Instead, he seemed to rush it, wanting to get it over with. She didn't care. The warmth was all that mattered. The sweet feeling of being complete.

Nadir was touching her. Tasting her. But every touch, every caress, every thought. It was all his wife. She was there, and if he clenched his eyes closed tightly, he could almost hear the sound of her voice. All of that was driven from his mind, however, when the harsh lightbulb string was pulled.

Nadir looked up, to see Erik Bathory, outlined in harsh yellow. His mask was gone, and the sadistic grin on his face made Nadir want to run for the nearest exit. Amber and Jade locked, as Chistine was left puzzled.

" I believe you have some explaining to do."

Hahahha! Left ya hanging! Read and Reveiw! Is Nadir in for a beating? Find out next time!


	8. Chapter 8

Well, I am back! Now, Reviews!

**Erik'sDarkLullaby**: Yep, I update fast. Too many ideas get sutck of here.:taps head: Oh, and I drew that NmBC pic . It actually turned out alright, so I will send you a veiw of it when I upload my fax software soemtime soon. Yeah, Meg was a helper in that scheme, but the reason for that will emerge eventually. If I have one. But you are right, she does hurt. In this chapter though, Erik manages to build a small understanding with her. Hope you get to read this soon! Your reviews make my happy dance so much cooler!

**Phantomfrom hell**: I am glad you like it! Sorry I left you hanging.. oh wait, no I am not. lol.

**phantomann**: Yes, very 9/11ish. You'll see why this chapter! Don't worry, t's not cliche, promise.

**Dove of Night**: Yes, Angsty. Just the way I like it. I am glad it pleases you! Here is another installment!

**The Century Child**: Yeah, too much Fuck, I know. But you must admit, it was a very good chapter. I should have picked a better curse word for Erik though. Raoul's more of a Fuck guy then Erik.

**ackari smith**: heh, I hate cliffhangers too, when I read. All the more reason to make some of my own, as payback, lol. N/C is odd for some, but it works, I beleive. I could never write any R/C anyhow. I would probably throwup on the keyboard.

**Erik'sTrueAngel:** Nadir is gonna get it, heheh. And Meg's little speil will come along sometime. Maybe. I want to establish the fact that she didn't do it to be a bitch, but because she was yearning for acceptence herself. An explaination will come in time. I promise!

Now, to all of you who read and don't review: Thank you! It means the world to me that you would even stick with my crazy brainchild!

..._** For Mercy has a human heart,**_

_**Pity a human face,**_

_**And Love, the human form divine,**_

_**And Peace, the human dress.**_

_**-William Blake, Songs of Innocence**_

_**Cruelty has a Human Heart,**_

_**and Jealousy a Human Face,**_

_**Terror the Human Form Divne,**_

_**and Secrecy the Human Dress.**_

****

****

_**The Human Dress is forged iron,**_

_**The Human Form a fiery Forge,**_

_**The Human Face a Furnace seal'd,**_

_**The Human Heart its hungry Gorge.**_

_**-William Blake, Songs of Experience**_

****

You could have heard a pin drop, in that tiny, dank room.

Nadir looked for words to deny what he was doing, but they just wouldn't come out. How could he deny it? The girl was almost half naked by now, and he had been kissing her quite passionately when the light had damn near fried his retinas. The man in front of him, this man must have been Bathory.

He had eyes so powerfully captivating, that even on his deathbed Nadir had remembered them.

He remembered his trip to Thailand, where he had seen a lioness. Not the tame, raised in the zoo kind. The I-just-got-captured-and-wanna-**kill**-you Kind. She had swiped for his throat, missing by mere inches. She had those same eyes.

Violent, turbulent, passionate.. Those words were only dull descriptions, compared to actully seeing it. He sat there, on top of an old desk, dressed in black.Black dress shirt, black trousers, black boots. His legs were crossed, as if he had been there for quite some time. Nadir had the striking fear that this lion was going to go in for the kill. He didn't look like the kind to miss, either.

Christine, however, was seriously fazed. Large luminous eyes were scanning the room, a habit she had when she was flustered.If there was one thing she hadn't counted on, it was Erik Bathory. What would happen to Nadir? Erik had made it abundantly clear that she was to stay away from him.

Stumbling forward, she tried to find her current guardian. Tripping over some bric-a-brac, she was intimately acqainted with dirty linoleum. She waited for someone to offer her a hand, until she felt her chin being raised up, not by a hand, but by a boot-clad foot. The smell of shoe polish was a dead giveaway.

Nadir saw the vicious smirk on Bathory's face, as he looked into Christine's features. The man looked to beecstatic overthe power he held. Like he enjoyed seeing the normally cold and frigid girl quivering there, waiting for him to pass judgement. And shaking she was, the dark curls caressing her bare shoulders. Shirt half buttoned, he knew the masked man could see straight down it.

Nadir had to admit that the picture aroused him. Erik had total domination of the girl in these moments. She, who dressed in a white button down , pale gray wool pants, and white tasteful shoes, looked quite innocent, a pure little bride to a cruel and monsturous man.

" My dear, may I have a word alone with Monsieur Khan?"

Christine felt a gloved hand pulling her gently to her feet. "B-but.."

Then, a long, leather-encased finger travelling down her lips. " I will not harm him, Christine. But I will end this. Now please, step outside."

He watched as Erik pulled her shirt up ;straigthening it. He went so far as to fasten the buttons. Nadir was no fool. He recognized the look in Erik's eyes. But it wasn't just lust.And Love was out of the question. It seemed to be a tumultuous respect between the two. A balance.

Bathory smoothed her curls, and walked her to the door, nearly shoving Nadir off of his feet when passing by. He held the door ajar for Christine, pushing the small of her back, in the most gentle of motions.

"Go to math class my dear, and get started."

Much to the principal's dismay, she did just that. The two men watched as the turned the corner, listening to the door creaking open and closing. With that, Erik grasped Nadir's collar, yanking into the closet and slamming the door.

He was about to speak, only to hear the class bell ring. Students flooded the noisy lallways, reunning from their last class to another. Both kept their mouths shut, for a five minute period. Though Erik never relinquished his hold on the man.

* * *

Christine no sooner got to math then she was released for her music class. When she got there, Reza was busy running over his different songs. She took a seat next to him, waiting for Mr. Reichman to pophis head outside of his door, to make sure they were actually attending.

Reza looked over at the girl who seemed so cold. He knew she couldn't be though. You couldn't sing so beautifully and not be beautiful on the inside too. Or so he thought. He started in on a song he had written, a song for her. Since she was his only friend, besides a few of the drama students, he was attached. He would never admit to having romantic feelings for her though.

After all, she didn't seem to want any romantic connections. She was content to sit beside him and caress him with her voice, and the rythm of her notes. He would never ask for more then that. After all, the doctors had finally diagnosed him. He would never throw himself at some girl, only to die on her, to break her heart again.

Cancer. She helped him forget though. Helped him remember that there where more painful things then death. Humiliation, rape, deception. The girl had seen it all. She was an outcast even to other outcasts. He decided to wipe those thoughts from his mind, and started in on the tune.

"_Is everything a baited hook?  
and are there locks on all doors?  
if your're looking for an open book  
look no further, I am yours."_

He watched her eyes light up, when she heard the first words. It seemed he had caught her attention.

"_We'll behave like animals  
swing from tree to tree  
we can do anything  
that turns you up and sets you free._

_You're an exception to the rule  
you're a bonafide rarity  
you're all I ever wanted  
southern girl, could you want me?"_

He watched as she lost herself in his words. Her eyes seemed a little brighter then when she had walked in. She was smiling. He would give anything to make her smile.

_"So come outside and walk with me  
we'll try each other on to see if we fit  
and with our roots, become a tree  
to shade what we make under it_

_We'll behave like animals  
swing from tree to tree  
we can do anything  
that turns you up and sets you free_

_You're an exception to the rule  
you're a bonafide rarity  
you're all I ever wanted  
southern girl, could you want me?_

_You're an exception to the rule  
you're a bonafide rarity  
you're all I ever wanted  
southern girl, could you want me?  
southern girl, could you want me?"_

She was in a full fledged giggle now, and did something he hadn't expected. She did it out of nowhere, wrapping two willowy arms around his neck. Reza took a moment to appreiciate her gesture, before she let go. A genuine smile from her was rare. She laughed again, before speaking.

" I wrote a new one, would you like to hear it?"

He nodded, handing her the beat up K-Mart guitar.

" It's a little angry, but hey, what the hell!"

_"You crawl in bed, it's 3 am  
you smell of wine and cigarettes  
a butterfly under the glass  
you are **beautiful**  
but you're not going** anywhere**._

_We do the same thing every night  
I swear I've heard this song before  
a swimmer who has seen a shark  
I should really be more wary of the water._

_You came, you saw, you conquered everyone  
I'm left here guessing  
oh, what went wrong?  
yeah I'm down, but not out, and far from done  
hey all! beware! criminal  
criminal!_

_A prism with an intellect  
you throw your light selectivly  
you stole my glow, a seasoned thief  
the blacks of my eyes are turning into opals._

_Today, I walk  
there's nothing here left for me but **empty **promises  
and the thought of all the things I'm** never getting back**._

_You came, you saw, you conquered everyone  
I'm left here **bleeding**  
oh, what went wrong?  
yeah I'm down, but not out, and far from done  
hey all! beware! oooh, beware! criminal  
criminal, criminal, yeah_

_Did you think, did you think  
I wouldn't **notice?  
**did you think, did you think  
did you really think I wouldn't **care?**  
did you think, did you think  
I wouldn't notice?  
did you think, did you think  
did you really think, yeah._

_You came, you saw, you conquered, ooh  
and I'm left here** bleeding  
**oh, what went wrong?  
yeah I'm down, but not out, and far from done  
hey all! beware! criminal !"_

Reza 's eyes were wide. She had never written a song so on par with her bad experiences. Everyone at school had known about her mother, a drunk, who was killed when her husband caught her cheating. And he knew she had been blinded and raped. But this was the first time one of her songs illuminated the actions, instead of blind hatred toward whoever did it. It was there though, just under the surface.

She brushed some stray hair away, wondering absently what Erik and Nadir were speaking of. She wasn't really afriad anymore. Erik was many things she disliked, but she knew he kept most of his promises. Besides, the relationship could never have worked. He was too ashamed about his actions, and she was too empty hearted to feel for him. It had been about sex. meaningless wild sex. And while she would miss it, she could get it anywhere she pleased.

* * *

Erik seated the man on the desk, before eaching behind it, and removing a small briefcase. He opened it, slightly astonished that the coward to was touching his Christine only moment sbefore hadn't tried to run. He merely sat, and waited to be punished. Erik made sure Nadir didn't see the syringe.

Jabbing it into the mans arm, his aim struck true. Pushing the end down quickly, he flooded Khan 's system with sodium pentathol. It was strong stuff. Interrogine, highest quality. Nadir hadn't even had time to flinch and break the needle. He replaced the dirty syringe in his case, before speaking.

" I don't trust you, Khan. I definitely do not have fondess for you either. So let's make one thing perfectly clear. I have shot you with truth serum. Now, you will either answer my questions, or I will resort to much more... **unpleasant** ways of making you talk. Understood?"

Nadir felt slightly woozy. He nodded though, not trying to get up. He knew then, that if Christine hadn't wanted him safe, this man would already have his head skewered on the front gate of his house.How could he have been so stupid?

" Now, firstly,why are you interested in Christine?" Bathory was drumming his long, murderous fingers on the desk.

" She's beautiful. She reminded me of my wife.It was wrong, and dangerous for both of us. "

Nadir couldn't beleive what had just fallen out of his mouth! He heard a light creaking noise, and noticed Erik's gloved hands clenched tightly.

" Have you had sex with her?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Every day for the past few weeks."

Erik knew all of this already, but to hear it from the man's lips made it even more disgusting. Running a hand through his hair, he started again. This was no time to let his anger get ahead of him. He had a mission here in Florida, after all. It wouldn't do to get arrested for killing some petty idiot.

" _**Do you love her**_?"

Nadir tried to keep the words from coming out, but come out they did. If he didn't answer, he would just piss off Erik more. "No. I love her body, but not her."

Erik wanted to yell, barrage, and beat then man senseless. But stealth was key. He settled for a harsh whisper. " Then why were you sleeping with her! Just because she's willing doesn't mean it's right! **Damn you**!"

He paced the length of the closet, until he regained a semblence of composure." Was it fun? Did you enjoy her?"

" No."

He was still then, and for some reason, Naidr felt the tension in the room rising. In an eyblink, the furious man ripped him from atop the desk and slammed him into the wall. Nadir swore he heard something crack. " How dare you take what should have been mine, and not enjoy it! She has nothing else to give, you despicable bastard!"

**_Take what was his_**...

" What did you think about, when you were with her?"

"My wife."

" So you were using Christine, sullying her, and you didn't even have the decency to stay on this earth when doing the deed? Or should I call it doing the **_dead_**?"

Nadir felt the need to defend himself, and for the first time grew some backbone. " I didn't force myself on her, you know! I was lonely, she was lonely. We made do. I asked her for nothing more, she asked me for nothing less."

The white of the mask shined, standing out, as Erik stared into Nadir's eyes." That doesn't make it right. You could have denied her. Instead you chose to add to the girls' problems."

Nadir was let go, and as he slid down the wall, his back resting against it, Bathory closed his briefcase, stepping over Nadir's legs as he made his way to the exit. He turned, leaving Nadir with a chilling warning.

"I hope you develop a more _platonic_ relationship with my ward. It would be a pity if anything happened to your son. After all, Christine is very attached to him, as well. Though he doesn't take after his fathers' nonchalant disregard for her. Good day."

* * *

They didn't drive home in silence.Christine told him of her day, in a quiet voice. She told him of the sickly boys' songs, and apoligized for him having to see she and the principal.. engaging each other in overzealous activities. When they entered the cold house, he invited her to the music room.

He couldn't let her get too attached to Reza either. It would simply break the girl. He had to show her that he could take care of her. That his temper was reserved for argument, and his sarcasm could be curbed, at times. There was no need to reprimand her for the Nadir incident. She knew the error of her ways .

He had recordedhis little conversation with Nadir though, just in case.

Sitting at the piano, he waited for her to settle herself in the fluffy chair. He played a sad peice, one he had written when he first saw her. It was depressing, painful, but it was also passionate. Christine could understand these things

_"This party is old and uninviting  
participants all in black and white  
you enter in full blown technicolor  
nothing is the same after tonight._

_If the world would fall apart  
in a fiction worthy wind  
I wouldn't change a thing now that you're here  
yeah, love is a verb here in my room  
here in my room, here in my room  
yeah, love is a verb here in my room  
here in my room, here in my room._

_You enter and close the door behind you  
now show me the world seen from the stars  
if only the lights would dim a little  
I'm weary of eyes upon my **scars**._

_If the world would fall apart  
in a fiction worthy wind  
I wouldn't change a thing now that you're here  
yeah, love is a verb here in my room  
here in my room, here in my room  
yeah, love is a verb here in my room  
here in my room._

_Pink beam into your incision  
head spining as free as dervishs' whirl  
I came here expecting next to nothing  
so thank you for being that kind of girl."_

Christine enjoyed it, he could tell by the tiny corners of her mouth. They always turned upward, ever so slightly, when she liked something. She stood, counting paces under her breath, before sitting on the bench beside him. She cracked her knuckles, before starting in on another. She didn't ask him to move, much to his delight. Her leg brushing against his own, she closed those ghostly eyes, a melody overtake her.

She hadn't meant to come over, or to start playing. She was still hurt over the Meg Giry incidnt, but they hadn't spoken of it, since that night. She just needed someone to be close to. If Bathory was what she was stuck with, so be it. She wouldn't let him have her though. Not ever. She had the sinking feeling that, unlike Nadir, Erik would never release her, should she stumble into his arms. The thought was terrifying.

" This is a song my father wrote for my mother, before they died. Just don't laugh, it's a little short." Erik was a little stunned, to say the least. She barely spoke of her family, and he had yet to go and retrieve the account of their deaths. He made a mental note of it, and emptied his thoughts.Best to listen with a clear head.

_"To see you when I wake up  
is a gift I didn't think could be real  
to know that you feel the same as I do  
is a three-fold utopian dream._

_You do something to me  
that I can't explain  
so would I be out of line, if I said  
I miss you.._

_I see your picture, I smell your skin on  
the empty pillow next to mine  
you have only been gone ten days  
but already I am wasting away._

_I know I'll see you again  
whether far or soon  
but I need you to know that I care  
and I miss you."_

They sat in the silence, not really doing anything but enjoying the lack of arguing.

If Erik had known threatening the principal would give them this kind of dull companionship, he would have done it sooner. She had needed his help. She hadn't been able to get rid of the man herself, some insecurity inside of her denying her the power.It was hard to break ties with a person who ends your lonliness.

He had been looking out for her, and that was what she saw in his actions. Apparently it made alot of difference. He carried her back to her room, setting her down and placing a blanket over her. She had fallen asleep on the bench beside him. It was hard to tell when she slept, actuallly, considering sometimes her eyes didn't shut.

He kissed her cheek. It was exactly what he thought it would be. Soft and warm.

* * *

He retired to his study, pulling the blueprints of an elemaentary school from a desk drawer, coded to his fingerprints.

After all, it was already September First.

So.. Whatchya think? And no, Erik isn't gonna kill little kids. Do not go read 9/11 newspapers, and ruin the surprise. He isn't a suicide bomber either. You will just have to wait.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey all. Unfortunately it took me a while to update this time. I got the new HP book (three minutes after it's release, hehe. Wal-mart, people, I am telling you!) and spent that night and a couple hours the next day finishing it. Dumbledore dies! And Harry quits school to go after Snape, who killed Dumbledore! Regulus Black is a good guy.. or.. died a good guy. You learn about Voldemort's family, or lack thereof. Read it. Now, for reviews.

**Erik'sDarkLullaby**: .. No review, sob. You probably couldn't get to your comp! Hope it is fixed soon!

**Kagome1514**- I apoligize sincerly for not answering your last review, I swear I probably just didn't see it. A stint of online homework in the dead of night does that to me, lol. Thanks for the compliment. tried to clean up the chapter, and checked twice for spelling errors, jurt for you. Only to realize I forgot to include you on my review list, I am so sorry!

**Erik'sTrueAngel**- You got to read the chapter first, and I thank you! I am so glad you feel sorry for Reza! So many people base their sotories off Kay, or some other version of POTO, and I notice that so many of them in AU don't have all of the background characters in the story! I am a firm beleiver that a story can't be just three people. Ever. Though some stories I can make an exception for.

**potophan1010-** Thank you for your love of the Nadir Factor, as I love to call it. I am glad you like Reza as well! He just always sounded like such a real, heartfelt character. I am glad you enjoy my story, and that you can embarce the darkness, even if you usually don't like it! It is a huge compliment! Christine's mystery will be unravelled in no time, I promise!

**ackari smith-** Yep, Erik is a smart laddie. Erik is a terrorist, I assure you. I will touch upon that in this chapter. He will do nothing too gruesome, I promise. I am glad you like it!

**Twinkle22**- You will love this chapter too, I hope!

**The Century Child**- I will try to keep up the excellent writing, if you keep up your wonderful reviews! I must admit, flattery helps the process flow, lol. Nothing like an ego boost or a swell of terrible anger to progress the story! Nadir almost pissed himself. Phanti (sounds rediculessly like Fanta, to me) doesn't want to wait either! heheh!

**phantomann-** You prying little pandora! Shhh! I have to tell others not toread your review, no offense to you, to secure the plot! Lol. but the answer for your question is yes. And the outcome will be the same as it is historically, lol. I am glad someone other then me reads the newspapers! Keep up the insightful, inquisitive reviews, and if you have any other plot-based questions, send them to my email! I will be glad to oblige you!

**To all of you who don't review!-** I am glad you are fans, really! I am glad you take time out of your day to read this beautiful brainchild I spawned , hehe. I am not very modest, am I?

Read and Review, Ladies and Gentlemen.

_In Her Eyes He saw the World_.

Erik and Christines' lives were a whirlwind of work, school, sleep, and song. Wether they did this together or alone, was irrelevant. Erik continued with his blueprints and plotting, while Christine went to school, sang with Reza, ignored her teachers pleas for a politically unbaised history assignment, and ignored Nadir, who in turn nearly ran at the sight of her, though she didn't know it.

Erik was busy with his documents, sent to him my a contact from long ago. It described his duty in detail. He was to inflitrate the building, attempt to execute "_**the mark",**_ as the idiotic, B-grade, assassin movies called it, and get out undetacted. The usual for him. After all, he had been in the business since childhood, when an "unfortunate" twist of fate left him homeless. One day, he picked the wrong pocket, and next thing he knew, he was shipped to a school for terrorists, as absurd as that sounds. More like a training camp.

He never knew what organization he was working for, at any given time. After all, should he be captured,they ddin't want to have to pay another terrorist/mercenary/assassin to come for him. He wasn't into group slayings either. It was strictly single slay, undetection. His element, after all. It was three days from his assignment, and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect.

* * *

Christine was busy pushing a lock of hir from her sweaty forehead, as she sat in the burning bleachers. Of course, the last hot day of the year, and someone decided to call a bomb threat. How quaint. It was damn near stifling, and she had picked that day to wear her black pants. The other girls and boys shared in her sentiment, fanning themselves and actually doing homework.

The teachers louged about with their classes, sectioned out. The school was being throughly swept. They had been out there since nine-thrity that morning, and it was now twelve-thirty. Had they decided not to do mhomework, they would have been obliged to stare at others, tie their shoes, or look at the dying grass of the football field.

Christine merely kept her eyes foreward, tapping out braille with a pencil, as she wondered which direction the Banana River was in. It was visible from this set of bleachers, she remembered. If she had been able to recollect, she knew she would have been facing that direction, mentally invisioning the caress of icy liquid falling from the tips of her breasts, sliding down the small of her back. Encasing her from the damnable heat!

Reza sat beside her, damn near the palest, most tired boy she could have seen, had she been able to see. He had told her he was fine, though it was very clear that he would collapse soon, if not given some water. His black hair had no sheen to it, hanging dully into his face.

Christine reached her hand out, as she listened to Reza's wheezy breathes. She hadn't said anything, but the cancer had eaten away at him, and she was reminded of this now in music. He always accompanied her now, instead of singing himself. She missed the rich sounds he would make, the inflections of his drawling accent.

She felt his face, her fingertips tingling when he exhaled on them. She felt the state he was in, and opened her bag. She pulled a bottled water from it's depths, telling him to drink it. He didn't refuse, and she felt slightly better when his wheezing receded, leaving only the voice she remembered. The voice she cherished. She motioned for him to lay his head in her lap, waving away his protestations.

She heard a few of the bitchy girls giggle, whispering about "Christine and the principal's pussy son snuggling". It didn't bother her. She wanted to keep him company, until he wasn't able to accompany her anymore. She didn't know what was worse;loosing someone she loved in a freak accident, or knowing they won't be there before they are even gone. She decided to sing a song for him, a song she heard when she was a child.

She remembered her family, watching the King and I . They had been so happy. Maybe it would make Reza happy, as well. She would have to sing the male parts, but it didn't matter. Neither did all the people around her. After all, if she didn't see them, they weren't there, right?

_"We kiss in a shadow,_

_We hide from the moon,_

_Our meetings are few,_

_And over too soon._

_We speak in a whisper,_

_Afraid to be heard;_

_When people are near,_

_We speak not a word._

_Alone in our secret,_

_Together we sigh,_

_For one smiling day to be free!"_

_"To kiss in the sunlight_

_And say to the sky:_

_"Behold and believe what you see!_

_Behold how my lover loves me!"_

She couldn't believe it when he started to sing the female parts. His voice was much the same, though a little grasping. She could almost laugh. She was Lun Tha, and he was her Tuptim.

"_We speak in a whisper,_

_Afraid to be heard;_

_When people are near,_

_We speak not a word._

_Alone in our secret,_

_Together we sigh,_

_For one smiling day to be free."_

They both sang the next set, their voices high and hopeful. The hope in the song belied the ending of the siamese couples romance, unfortunately.

_"To kiss in the sunlight_

_And say to the sky:_

_Behold and believe what you see!_

_Behold how my lover loves me!_

_To kiss in the sunlight_

_And say to the sky:_

_Behold and believe what you see!_

_Behold how my lover loves me!"_

She let a hand stroke the long strands of Reza's hair. It was strange to her, how she transferred her affection only to males. She was never too attracted to the company of women, which a psychologist once contributed to :" The pain your mothers' **adultery** had upon your psyche."

Reza was different from his father though. He genuinely cared for Christine, to the point of walking her to the car every day, since she had beeen tripped quite a few times in the past week by other students. She hated imposing on people, and the constant remarks from Erik, which reminded her of the boys frailty, frankly annoyed her.

They talked about the King and I, until Reza dosed off in her lap. She continued to pet his hair, whispering song lyrics until they where allowed back into school. It was fifteen minutes until the end bell. Christine and Reza got to music, when he surprised her with a question.

"Is Mr.Bathory nice?"

"_Nice_ isn't the word I would choose. More like_ intense_."

He made a soft noise in the back of his throat." _Intense_?"

There was a slight tinge of humor in her voice, as she continued." Yes. Intense, Mr Giggles. He is tall, almost too tall, really. He had these burning eyes, as stupid as it sounds. They are gold, almost honey-colored. He wears a white mask, to cover up a deformation on one side. But really, I dtopped caring after my accident."

Reza heard the tinge of awe in her voice. She was probably remembering her vision.He still had traced of comedic laughter in his voice ."That still doesn't answer the question of why he is intense, you know. Or is he just pysically domineering?"

"Oh no! It's more his personality. If he isn't angry, he's quiet, if he isn't quiet he's singing amorous songs to thin air. He doesn't seem to have a boring disposition. Why do you ask?"

She heard his hesitation. "Do you think he would alet me to come over? To visit, I mean? After all, Dads' not going to be home tonight and tommorow, he has to meet with some crazy Swedish doctors about a surgery... and I don't want to be alone, in case something happens."

" Of course you can stay. I can ask him when you drop me off at the car. Besdies, if he says no, I'll just have to stay with you tongight and tommorow!"

"Well, I figured after Meg Giry.. that you wouldn't really trust going to somebody elses' place. Do you think he will be mad?"

She grabbed her pack, as the freakishly loud bel signalled their freedom.

"Guess there's only one way to find out!"

* * *

Erik rolled his eyes, as they pulled into the drive, Christine and the boy running to the door. She was entirely too happy with that little... No, he would not stoop to the level of insulting the ill. Even if this certain sick boy had a strange bond to his beautifully caustic charge. He exited the car, making sure te overly polite child and the overly evil little spwan were inside, before kicking the tire soundly enough to make his toe ache.

He wasn't heartless, contrary to popular belief. He didn't want Christine to fight with him, either. Which is why, when she requested that he let Reza stay, he had allowed it. What kind of monster would he be, declining the deathly ill from occupying some space? The fact that it made the girl happy was only a perk.

He entered the house, and when he heard the soft voices of the two in the living room, he nearly took flight to get to the music room. Changin his mind, he made way to the kitcehn, starting a mediocre dinner. After all, it wouldn't do to let them starve, either. It unsteadied him to think he let his conscience influnce his actions. He informed them of the upcoming edibles, and joined in some polite conversation.

* * *

Reza stared openly at the man, the awe in his eyes apparent even to Erik, who was unnerved. He seemed to latch on Eriks' words, while Christine only spoke occasionally. Despite Erik's almost pure hatred of strangers, they talked and talked, until gradually, the nervous feelings dissolved.

Christine felt left out, while the men talked about everything from _Dante_ to _The Nightmare Before Christmas_, which Erik said was his favorite Burton work. She ended up dropping off somewhere around nine, after they ate their food. She remembered the soft murmur of her only friends, and it was sweet to sleep to.

Reza followed Erik, as the strong man lifted the girl into his arms, carrying her to a dark blue bedroom. Reza was jealous, this man held something special in his hands, and acted as if she was nothing but a possession. He pulled the sheets over her, forgetting to close the door when they left.

Erik invited Reza to the music room, since it seemed neither where getting sleep anytime soon. Erik's fingers where twitching in anticipation of the ivory keys he so loved, and Reza longed to hear the haunting sounds Christine had described to him. Erik took a seat, cracking his chuckles loudly, as was his habit. The extremely long digits reminded Reza of stilettos, the dangerous knives his father had once shown him.

When Erik's finger met the keys, Reza realized why he enamored the man so. He had an air of mystery that entranced him.It was the same with Christine, after all. They seemed so ethereal, and so human at the same time. They held to secrets so tightly, and unlike anyone he had ever met, they mattered.

And being with them, it made him feel like he mattered.

_"Child of the wilderness_

_Born into emptiness_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Learn to find your way in darkness_

_Who will be there for you_

_Comfort and care for you_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Learn to be your one companion_

_Never dreamed out in the world_

_There are arms to hold you_

_You've always known your heart was on its own_

_So laugh in your loneliness_

_Child of the wilderness_

_Learn to Be lonely_

_Learn how to love life that is lived alone_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Life can be lived life can be loved** alone**."_

Erik had shut his eyes as he sung. He still remembered the night he wrote it. The night Christine had run from his house, only to return, much to his surprise, only a few hours later. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Reza approach him, didn't hear Reza reach out.

He only felt fingers brush his cheek, as air hit the usually covered flesh of his cheek.

* * *

Christine awoke to screaming, or was it yelling? She didn't stop to find out, as the angry roar of Erik's voice spurred her into action. Reza, was he alright? Erik? What had happened? She run towards the sound, bashing a hip or two against a wall in her haste. Her curls flying behind her, she crashed painfully into a tirading Erik, the crack filling the air obviously not a good thing.

She was forced into a chair, the soft sobbing of her friend not really her concern, as a horrible pain filled her nose. The doctors had told her it would be very weak, and to keep herself safe from sudden, harsh impacts.

I think it was safe to say this would be considered a sudden, harsh impact.

Erik cursed the boy, how dare he take the mask off! Even Christine hadn't been so callous as to remove it. He had been busy screaming at the top of his lungs, when the mouse of a girl had slammed into him hard enough to bruise. Of course, he had forgotten she was alseep. She must have been panicked.

He curbed the raw urge to kill, ordering the boy to get ice. Reza, apparently relieved to get away from them, took the chance to speed from the room. Erik examined Christines' nose, not feeling any guilt, even when she flinched. After all, if she hadn't invited the boy, none of this would have happened. Or at least that was what the dominant part of his brain said. Th eguilty part clutched in regret, as he set her remodeled nose quickly, and effeciently.

Reza walked in, just at that moment. Dropping the bag of ice, he ran to Christines' side, wrapping his arms around her . Erik was surprised, when the girl started to shake.She was usually so composed. Imagine both the mens' surprise when she started to gasp for breath. They both closed in on her, shocked to see what was really happening to their beloved kitten.

She was sobbing. Deep, heavy sobs, and gasping in between, as thought she had just run for miles. She couldn't remember the last time she had hurt this much. The crunch of her prosthetic nose had ground against her actual remaining bone, and blood came from her nostrils. Shehad been told she was lucky they had been able to save it the first time, and that she wasn't able to feel it. Now she knew why ignorance was bliss.

Erik remembered himself when Reza's shaky hands retrieved the icepack. He stood quickly, striding from the room like Hell hounds were following. Damn the boy and her! Deceitful little wretches!

Reza couldn't remove the image from his mind. Erik's face, it hadn't been.. That was why the man was so ethereal? Because of his face? In that case, Reza was fine with being average. He didn't know what possessed him. maybe it was the white glow of the mask, as the depressing song had played? He turned his thoughts to Christine, as he helped her to her room, letting her hold the cold pack to her swelling nose.

* * *

A couple of hours later, when the sweeling had gone down and Reza had stopped doing an imitation of a leaf in a hurricane, she had forced him to confess to his transgression. Upon hearing of it, she had a tantrum of her own.

" Reza, how could you! I told you what was under it1 Or is my word not good enough for you!"

"It wasn't that, it was just..He looked like a corpse! You could see the veins under hsi skin, and , and the side of his nose was gone!"

"So! That's none of your business! I may have never seeen his face, but I don't really care what it looks like, okay! He takes care of me, and that's the one damn thing he asked me never to do! God Reza."

He clenched his hands, before bellowing back at her. It was just one slip. In this moment, she wasn't blind, she wasn't a tiny woman, she wasn't the one he loved.

She was just there.

" He was a **monster**, Christine! And if you could have **seen** it, you would think so too! But I guess you **can't** can you? So don't tell me about what I should and should not let bother me, alright? Cause I _**don't give a damn!"**_

He felt the burning pain in his genitalia, as she left the room.

"Think about that, until I get back."

She made her way to the empty music room, picking up a guitar. She didn't sense Erik there, and he wasn't, so she picked up her guitar. plugging it into an amp, she slammed the door shut. The sound-proof room allowed her alot of freedom.

_"When I close my eyes.. I can see for miles_

_There's comfort in my dark seat.. and chaos in the aisles_

_These eyes are not your eyes_

_And these eyes are not the color_

_that your arid eyes might be._

_No, I was not around_

_When those eyes of yours decided so_

_I refuse to kneel before the_

_Sights you choose to see._

_When I close my eyes .. I remember why I smile_

_Under my umbrella.. I'm an acomplished exile._

_These eyes are not your eyes_

_And these eyes are not the color_

_that your arid eyes might be._

_No, I was not around_

_When those eyes of yours decided so_

_I refuse to kneel before the_

_Sights you choose to see!_

_If this is right, I would rather be wrong!_

_If this is right, I would rather be blind!_

_These eyes are not your eyes_

_And these eyes are not the color_

_that your arid eyes might be._

_No, I was not around_

_When those eyes of yours decided so_

_I refuse to kneel before the_

_Sights you choose to see!_

_If this is right, I would rather be **wrong!**_

_If this is right, I would rather be **blind**!"_

When she returned to her room, Reza was crying. She could hear him. She took him into her arms, having let all of her anger go with a simple song. She was angry that he would insult Erik so, but she couldn't bear to hear his sobs. The sobs her baby brother had made, before he had died prematurely. It had been in the hospital, in the middle ofthe night.

She let him sob himself out, right there on her shoulder. She got him to let go long enough to change into a nightgown. Reza watched unabashedly, considering she didn't know if he was looking of not. The temptation was too much to resist.

She slid the ankle length black garment over her head, before returning to her bed, sitting beside him. " I want you to agoligize tommorrow."

He looked into those eyes, astonished to notice that the moonlight made the grey pupils silver.

" I will."

Christine touched his face then, wiping the wetness from them. She was so attached, so attached so fast. Was she doomed to seek comfort from every man she ever met?

**She just wanted to end the pain.**

He caught her hand in his own, before pressing his lips against hers. She wrapped her arms around him, as darkness consumed the bedroom.

Damn! Our girly is just sexing it up lately, hmm? I know most of you won't like it, but come on!Did you think Reza was gonna die a virgin! See you next chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

Hello everyone. No group review answering this time, sorry. But to answer some of your questions would give away the plot. I am not mad that one of you guessed who Erik was after. Actually I am flattered. I have an idea for another story, but it is a little controversial, so if any of you would be kind enough to listen, IM me . It's Moonwhisper7. Thank you to allof my reviewers, you make this story worth writing.Sorry about the HBP spoilers, as well. Clever Lass made me see the error of that. Now, on with the show. This chapter starts three days after nine eleven. I hope it is easy to follow.

"**_You have kindled a fire which all the waters of the ocean cannot put out, which seas of blood can only extinguish."- A Georgia Senator, 1800's_**

* * *

Raoul was irritated. And confused. Somehow, over the course of four days, his world did a three sixty. One day, he was doing his really difficult history work, the next, he was chained to a desk in a police station, getting questioned about Christine Daae. The one girl he would never bring up in casual conversation.

He woke up from his thinking when the door slammed open. Oh, yay, the Cops again. Raoul schooled his face in a look of casual disregard, letting the cops get a good look at his strong features. They didn't look very impressed, to say the least.

"Sir, I'm officer Anders, this is officer Bailey. We want to ask you some questions regarding the whereabouts of Christine Daae. Your brother has agreed to this, and he will be sitting in on this meeting with us, unless you want him removed?"

Raoul shrugged noncommittally."Sure, let him in. I still don't see why I'm here."

They ignored his light protest, showing Phillipe in. Raoul watched his older borther take a spare seat in the sparse room. He looked like he was just as comfortable sitting there was he was lounging in their house. That's what Raoul loved about his brother. Nothing seemed to phase him. He was the perfect example of composure.

" Now, Mr. Chagny, we aren't saying you are a suspect in this case. We just want to know what kind of connection you had with the missing victim."

" I already told you, I haven't seen her since someone played that prank on her."

tThe officers looked at each other, before Anders spoke." Well, we were hoping you would explain the situation your principal was talking about. Something about accosting Ms.Daae in class? Really Sir, we need the facts. There is a chance that this man who has her will kill her."

Phillipe tensed slightly, though Raoul was sure he was the only one who noticed. He felt the sudden urge to smack his own head against the table in front of him, but resisted. "Okay, she was readign a poem. It was about.. personal stuff. Stuff she knows about me. I didn't like what she had to say, so I hit her. I didn't mean to, it just happened. And I thought she was Bathory, not Daae."

"Well, we don't want anyone to get violent with her, or think she is related to the suspect. After all, she could be entirely innocent in this, considering the evidence we found at the home."

Phillipe spoke up, his velvety voice soothing Raoul's frazzled nerves. His brother was all he had left. Even if the man ignored and overlooked Raoul, he was still looked up to.

"So you think this Erik Bathory is holding her against her will? You think he killed Reza Khan?"

The men again exchanged a look, irrtating Raoul. They weren't twins, they could cut the glancing. They were obviously trying to pry into his personal business. Raoul didn't care anymore. They had managed to secure a warrant, so he had to tell them the truth. He shot a look of his own Phillipe's way. His brother looked back, giving a nod.

"Alright.You guys wanna know about me and Christine right?"

"Yes Sir. Anything about your past with her would help us greatly in finding her."

"Well..here goes then."

* * *

**When we were little ,Christine's parents were alive. So were mine. Our families were friends, considering we lived down the street from each other. We had known heach other since we were tiny. So obviously we had gotten used to each other. Even Phillipe was friends with the Daae's.**

**Well, when we where almost eleven, Christine's mom was always coming over, or my dad was always going over there. It was weird, cause we weren't allowed to bother them when they were alone. Me and Christine always got locked out. We would play for hours, you know. Then my dad would coem out, run his hands down his shirt, pull out his keys, and we would leave.**

**One day, Christine's mom dropped her off at my house. She asked my mom if she could watch Christine for a while. My mom said yes, even though my dad was supposed to be on business and she would have nobody there to help here watch Christine and me. So we fooled around, playing in the garden. Christine helped mom bake cookies.**

**It wasn't until seven. Yeah, seven. It was night time, and my dad showed up out of the blue. He told my mother to shut up when she asked him why he was home. He took Christine by the shoulders, and told her that she was going to stay here for a while. When she asked why, he told her that her mother was dead.**

**I had always liked Mrs. Daae. I had no idea what she and my father were doing. Neither did my mother. Well, when my father called the police and told them what he saw, they went over to the Daae house. They found Christine's mother, dead. A giant "A" carved into her chest.**

**Mr. Daae was there too. He had slit his own wrists. He left a note for Christine, but I don't know if she ever read it. Well, the police found out exactly what happened:**

**My father and Christine's mother where having an affair. They had been for some large amount of time. Well, my father lied to my mother, telling her that he had to go away for the weekend for work. He said Georgia, I think. Well, he didn't obviously. He went to his lovers' house. When he found them there, he came home and called the police.**

**So, the police found out about his affiar, and told him they were going to give Christine to social services. He told them to give her a blood test. My mother was so angry, she didn't think it was possible that they had been fooling around behind her back for that long. Well, she was wrong.**

**My mother and Father never got along after that. Eventually it got to the point where dad would.. hit her. She never said anything. She hated Christine. They would go at it about the girl for hours, and she would just sit there, watching them with this stupid look on her face.**

**One day, my mom shoved her down a flight of stairs. She had been cleaning her room, and my mom thought she was being a nuisance. Christine had a broken arm, so my dad pushed my mother down the stairs. Mom got a cut on her forehead, but she was fine.**

**That night, mom woke me and Phillipe up. She told us to go outside and wait on the lawn. SO we did. She ran out, and the house started on fire. We tried to run back inside, but she held us back. Phillipe and I waited until a neighbor saw the fire. He ran in. It was a few minutes, the police showed up. So did the fire department. The neighbor burned to death trying to save my sleeping father.**

**The firemen managed to save Christine though, obviously. She was charred from the waist to the tops of her breasts. A few scars on her legs too. The blanket on top of her caught on fire. Well, she was hospitallized, and Mom was put in prison. She didn't last long when the inmates heard she tried to kill a kid."**

* * *

Raoul sighed, putting his head in his hands. "You people think you know alot, right? Well I would never kill my sister.It was a well kept secret, so I wasn't surprised you didn't know. It's just she.. The Daae's. They _ruined_ my life. They killed my parents. So I hope you find her, but I'm not going to loose any sleep over it. Can I please go now?"

They dismissed him, puzzled at the thought that this investigation had just gotten alot more complicated.

* * *

Erik pulled Christine into the dingy bomb shelter. he had found it a couple years ago. Must have been left over from either Y2K or one of the bomb scares of the fourties and fifties. He locked the door, five keys slipping into their respective holes. He took the time to break off each key in the locks, so Christine couldn't exit from this point.

" What are you doing to me! Let me go! **Your a monster, you killed Reza**!"

He continued down into the darkness, flipping a switch when they reached the bottom of the stairs. The place was dusty, a few spiders here and there. There were MRE's , a few weapons, high enough on the shelves that Christine wouldn't find them. A modest bathroom was present, and a couple cots were pushed into a corner.

He pushed her to the ground, scurrying around, trying to find the laptop he had stashed somewhere. He had seen the video of the twin towers. That must have been the plan the terrorists had set into action. They had wanted Erik to kill the president in Sarasota, so he would be captured. Courtesy of them of course. He would have been blamed for it all.

Good thing Christine had decided to sleep with that little bastard, otherwise he would be rotting in a prison cell right now. Not that it would have been any worse then suffering her right at that moment. Really, she didn't have to creen and wail at the top of her lungs. He tried to push her tears from his consiousness, the yelling, the pain.

He remembered finding them there. The boy had been breathing shallowly, his arms wrapped around her. She had been naked. Naked and beautiful. Happy with him, the boy. Erik made her happy, so why didn't she love Erik? He let his anger get the better of him.But she had been upset. The boy had been frightened. And he had been so angry he couldn't see straight.

He couldn't forget the way she looked, lying there. Her scars shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the window. They were just as unique as she was. As her music was. And he had felt the dangerous possessive feeling. A feeling as old as time. He still couldn't remember exactly what he had done. It was like that at times. he could kill and not remember even lifting a finger.

She wouldn't speak now, though. Just cry. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't even want to yell anymore. What was she so upset about? The boy was dying anyway, he had just put him out of his misery. He waited until he thought she was asleep, wiping her puffy face with a hot towel.

She dusted off a cot, pulling a thin blanket from a shelf. He covered her, almost reverently. He could only hope she was be herself tommorow. After all he had done to this girl, though, he doubted that greatly. It seemed her lot in life to suffer, just as he suffered. Only her imperfections weren't readily visible.

With her eyes closed, she almost looked innocent. But inside she was even more warped then Erik himself.

But Oh, how he loved her.

He took off her jacket, hoping she wouldn't stir. A peice of paper fell from the pocket, falling to the floor. Erik bent to pick it up, recognizing the smudgey braille. She hadn't stopped yelling in the car, until he threatened her. It hurt him to do so, but her yelling about his murdering innocent boys wasn't going to save them from getting caught by the police.

She had shut up when he gripped her wrist, squeezing it hard anough to bruise. Instead, she cowered in the back seat, pulling a peice of paper from her pocket. He always kept writing utensils in his car, in case he needed them. She snatched one quickly, jotting things down in her stalled writing.

She wrote the date, the numbers wobbly. She followed with a passage of speach, which must have been a goodbye note. Not that anyone would read it.

* * *

**He killed him. He killed Reza. Reza said he was a monster, that he was hideous. I could never think that way about Erik though. He is alot of things I dislike, but I never thought he would kill anyone.Maybe hurt. But alot of people I know hurt me, and I still consider them friends.**

**What would he think, if he knew Raoul was my brother? If he knew that was the reason I knew he didn't rape and beat me? If he knew I was the bastard child of a adulterous union? He would probably be even more drawn to me. Seems fitting. I wanted to be loved my whole life. Now that I am, it is by a man that the Devil would be frightened of. It seems fitting that a song comes to me now.**

**It will be my lament for Reza. The only person who ever wanted anything to do with me. The only person who never betrayed me.**

_Well it's years, since your body went flat, and even memories of that_

_Are all thick and dull, all gravel and glass._

_But who needs them now,_

_Displaced their easily more safe._

_The worst of it now : I can't remember your face._

_**Return.**_

_For awhile, with the vertigo cured,_

_We were alive we were pure._

_Though void took the shape of all that you were,_

_But years take their toll, and things get bent into shape._

_Antiseptic and tired, I can't remember your face._

_**Return.**_

_You were supposed to grow old,_

_Reckless unfrightened and old,_

_You were supposed to grow old._

_Return. You were supposed to **return**._

She had loved the boy that much? The Chagny's.. They were her brothers!

Erik let a small sigh escape him. They had been evading capture for a few days. Now they were finally safe.

So why did he feel like he had just made the worst mistake of his life?

* * *

Well, Sup. It's 1:09 a.m. here in Tempe, Arizona. Thank all of my reviewers and readers for their support.**Clever Lass, The Century Child, Erik's True Angel, potophan1010, phantomann, ackari smith, Voldivoice-**Thank you for the stunning review! I love the name!

**snapesepanss,Kagome1514, Ripper De La Blackstaff**, and all you out there who just read it. Hope you enjoy it. I am sorry the first chapters are so grammatically incorrect. I hpe someone will chat over my new idea with me. I am too shy to ask one on one. Join Project Phantom, by the way! Be part of the Punjab Brigade! We are set up at avidgamers2.

Thanks to all the musicians who I rip off in this story: **Ok Go, BoySetsFire, The Queen of the Damned Soundtrack, The King and I Soundtrack, Incubus, Story of the Year**, and that's about it so far. I try to keep the bands low key, so not everyone notices the beats right off the bat.


	11. Chapter 11

Hello All. Again, it is time for an update and a review answering session. This episode of Shiver, we find out who raped Christine, which I wasn't going to include, but after sharing my ideas with a friend, who knows who she is, lol, was coerced. I am actually in a very good mood!

I had an influx of Flames over the last two days. In the sea of confusion over taking care of my twin daughters, doing online high school, going over new story ideas, and living a healthy normal life, etc. I didn't really care what they said, but I would like to dedicate this chapter to the Flamers. Here are your review answers:

**Fishtoes:** Enjoyed the Flame. My friend Marissa was beaten in an alley, raped, and had to have extensive plastic surgery and operations to fix her physique. She turned down counseling to pursue her own form of happiness, trying to forget the horrible experience with many other males. Yes, it took her a year to heal. That's how I know. She is currently affianced to my brother Joshua. thank you for reading, even if it was only until the chapter where things didn't go your way.

**Letthedreamdescend:** I love your PN. The hair thing is different. Christine had a reason for it I am sure. It will be sorted out soon. I forgot to clarify it before. Your flame was actually constructive, much to your chagrin, most likely. But that scene did have a purpose. Had you bothered to read all of the chapters you would know that. Not that I mind a great deal. We are all entitled to our opinions.

**Jessica:** I have no idea who William Castle is, but I will admit that I love plot twists. I do nothing for shock value though. I do it because the real world is full of twists and turns. I appreciated the fact that you didn't slander me like the rest of the Flame Brigade though. You made a honest point about how you felt, with no insult to myself. I appreciate your views, though I do not agree with them. Shiver is like one of my children to me. I will never regret it, even if it stirs such controversy.

**Phantasy Megan:** I appreciate the review. As I have already pointed out, I am no stranger to torture, rape. And to confide something to all of my reviewers: I Have been profusely beaten by a man before. I have twin daughters by this man. He threatened to kill me, and damn near did. So don't you dare take liberties by accusing me of having no life experience with these things. I may be quite young, but I have seen a lot. Too much for my tastes.

**Ayezur:** Some people must cope, because they cannot function any other way. I have mentioned that three strong young women I know have been through these kinds of ordeals, and yes, sometimes they don't want to pity society offers them. I am sorry, but I didn't learn rape from a textbook. I learned it from watching people struggle under the pain of such things, and shut off their emotions of despair and pain. I apologized for my horrendous Japanese already, as well. But I admit that much of your flame segment was correct. I applaud you, you managed to find something mildly substantial to complain about.

**Feather Plume:** Please see the reviews above, as repetition isn't in my nature.

**Erik's Dark Lullaby:** I love you and I missed you while your comp was getting fixed! thank you for reviewing each one, and for agreeing to collaborate after our fics are done! Caged will sing! I love it so very much!

**BelacaniOnTheRez:** Thank you, I am glad it suited your tastes! You are a very flattering reviewer. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Yes GO me!

**potophan1010:** Ahh, my dearest of friends, who discussed flames, phantoms, sneaky Erik's, and cross-dressing Raoul's with me. I look forward to Dirty Little Secret! It will be the best collaboration we have ever done. Even though we have never done a collaboration, lol. You are my mind twin! And you introduced me to the phrase "Ruins the sheen".

**Erik's True Angel:** Yeah, I feel badly for her, but don't worry, this chapter illuminates some things. Some rather twisty things :disappears in a swish of cape:

**Voldivoice:** Yes, I feel sorry for her too. Who would want the fop as a brother? I am glad you believe in me, if you didn't I would disappear! Your reviews remind me of myself, with the hyper "please continues"! Well, here is another chatter, I hope you didn't go through Withdraws in my absence!

**phantomann:** Good point, this story is mighty controversial, the next two, however, will be ground-breaking. I will be doing two collaborations and one fic on my own. I figured I owed it to you to stop confusing you for one second!

Well, that was all for chapter ten, here is eleven! Review and tell me what you think!

_**Confidential Confessions : A Dark Mind**_.

When Phillipe Chagny was brought in for questioning, it was on a hunch. The man had acted a little too smug during his brothers' interview, and Anders was sure he saw a flash of anger cross his face when Christine Daae's name was mentioned. Why would the rich man hate her, after everything she went though?

It had been a guess, but it was entirely plausible. Had the workers on her rape case known of the Chagny/Daae conspiracy, Raoul would have definitely have been a prime suspect for her torture. Him or his brother. Phillipe Chagny was just a little too calm for theory tastes.

He didn't even fuss about being interrogated, said he didn't need his lawyer, and sat there, looking for all the world like a Siamese cat who ate the caviar. His blonde hair pulled back from his face, and his business suit in perfect alignment, he looked the exact picture of the cut-throat businessman he was.

The corporate giant he worked for, known as Enron, was thriving, and he couldn't have been worth more. Which was why it was a small miracle the sociopath was dumb and proud enough to be questioned by police. All they needed was one slip-up, and they could lock him in a cell faster then he could say Suzy.

Anders' partner was busy with the rest of the case, leaving him with a fresh intern named Jammes. She was quite the spitfire. She was strictly here for witness purposes though. She informed Mr Chagny of his rights, asking if they could record the conversation. He agreed, giving her a smile that could melt snow in below zero weather.

" Mr.Chagny, could you specify your relation to the victim?"

" She was my adopted sister."

Mr.Chagny, in our last interview with your brother, he explained that Ms.Daae is related to you through blood. Would you tell us just how she is blood tied to you?"

Anders was sure of it. The mans' face held a slight sneer. "She was the bastard child of Raoul's father and her own mother. She is no sister of mine."

Anders and Jammes looked like they had been hit by a train. How in the world could they have missed this? Wouldn't there be paperwork detailing an adoption? Phillipe saw their confusion, and answered the unspoken question.

" My mother was fertile, but it was believed my father was barren when I was small. So they opted for her to be inseminated with sperm form a donor. Lo and behold, years after I was born, my brother came along. So in all reality, Christine Daae is not my sister, though she was treated like one. "

Flipping through the report papers, Anders felt inclined to disagree. " According to your brother's testimony your mother showed abusive tendencies toward Ms. Daae. Are you contradicting that statement?"

" No. But my mother didn't have to take that girls fodder. She was a waste of food and life who shouldn't have been born. She ruined my family, you know. I just think her treatment was justified. There is no crime in that. It isn't like my mother succeeded in killing her, though she tried very hard. Is this all you wanted, officers?"

Jammes rolled her eyes at the man's demure. The way he said officers like it meant "dung". He reminded her of a yellow tree snake. Deceptively pleasing to the eye. He made her uneasy, and she couldn't put a finger on the reason.

" No, Sir. We would like to know what you were doing the night of the Daae rape, if you please?"

" I was at home, talking to an investor. That is, until I heard about my brother's little injury. I drove to the hospital, and got lose for a few minutes. But when I got there the doctors took my time down, I am sure you can retrieve the records from them, if you don't believe me."

Anders didn't smirk, but if he could have in front of the suspect, he would look like one of the disturbing dummies he had seen at talent shows as a child. It was an elementary rule of questioning. If your alibi is ready before your questioned, you are very likely guilty. Who remembers their alibi a year after the fact?

" You see, we have thoroughly looked over your statement, and the log at the hospital. And we met a nurse there, who gave us the log book. The log book they found after the fact of the rape trial. Apparently somebody paid her to stash it and create a fake one, for a substantial sum. Do you know which picture she picked out of our photo line up, Mr Chagny?"

Now he looked a little more flustered. His eyes, much like prey, darted for an escape route quickly, before he regained his composure a second later. But a second was all it took.

" She identified you, Mr.Chagny. She said you arrived at the hospital four hours after Raoul Chagny was admitted. The hospital is six miles from your house, where you claimed to have been working. Too bad nobody ever thought you were a solid suspect for the rape before, as Christine Daae said she didn't recognize your voice."

" So I was late. I just didn't want my brother to know I did business while he was sick. What's wrong with that?"

"Well Mr.Chagny, the fact that we managed to get a warrant for your phone records for that night indicates that between the precise hours Miss. Daae went missing from the school you called a unlisted number, which I haven't been able to trace as of yet. How ironic though. We checked your cell phone records again, for the date a Miss Meg Giry played a rather brutal prank on Christine Daae. You called Miss. Daae's phone."

" So your evidence that I am a rapist is hinged on the fact that I set up a rather cruel prank?"

"Ahh, but we never said you participated in the prank Sir. You did. And I never said you raped Miss Daae either. You assumed that is what I meant. But if you didn't remember, we checked the semen at the scene with your brother's DNA. There was no genetic match, and since you have the same mother, we would know if you did it, too."

His shoulders relaxed, and a smile came over his down turned mouth. Ah, the suave self confidence returns. Hopefully not for long though.

"Unfortunately, you did one thing sloppily. the phone call we couldn't trace? I lied. It was Mrs.Giry's cell number. The number of the woman who you knew would be Christine's caseworker! You have been lying to us all along, Mr.Chagny."

" What are you proposing Sir?"

"I am proposing that you found out who Christine's caseworker was, and when she finally received a guardian you either bribed or paid the woman to do your dirty work for you. She took Christine to her home, one of the few that still have a basement in this state. There, you had one of your employees rape and torture her while you watched.

" And how do you have proof that it was someone in my employ, or that I was in the vicinity of the crime?"

" Because Mr.Chagny, your fingerprints told the story. They were on the bottle of bleach, the only piece of evidence left there, besides the blood spatters on the cement walls. The dried up well in the basement was made of cement, so it served well enough for an easy place to bind the girl.

You were stupid to leave the blood and bleach there, but you had to leave the room the way it was, didn't you? You would go over to their house and look at it when you felt particularly murderous. You would run your hands over the dried blood, remembering the way she screamed."

You stood behind her so she couldn't see you. And you relished in her pain. And when it was finished, you knew she would be happy to die right there. Instead you decided to let her live, thinking that her ordeal would drive her insane."

They saw a very disturbing glint in Phillipe Chagny's eyes, as the man laughed. He threw his head back and chuckled like he was watching Singing in the Rain.

" And where is your proof that I had anything to do with rape? What if I just blinded her, you morons!"

" Oh no, Mr. Chagny. Once we had our suspicions confirmed we went through your employees, testing each ones DNA. to see if it matched our victims rape kit. And when we came across a strapping young man named Darius, he spilled the beans. He told us you told him you would get him deported if he didn't help.

He told us about your plans to torment Christine, though he didn't know why. You told him they would never suspect you, and that you knew a secret to keep Giry silent and compliant. So we asked you. And you delivered the answers right into our hands.

Even though the elder Giry wouldn't admit to it, the younger one snapped under the interrogation. She pegged you. So now we have enough to get you put away. So why did you do it, besides the fact that you hate her?"

He looked very agitated. He started to shake, his eyes cast downward. Knuckles white and red red, he locked eyes with Anders, before springing across the table. Anders was being choked, and Jammes struggled to pry Chagny off of him.

" She stole my fucking life, you bastard! She killed my family, ruined our reputation! She was a goddamned mistake who shouldn't have seen the light of day! I'm glad she's stuck with that murderer!"

The officers who worked behind the two way window ran in, restraining him and dragging him off.

Anders sighed, because he knew the truth of this case. Had Erik Bathory not been a murderer, the Daae case wouldn't have been solved. Nobody cared about the forgotten children of the world. Nobody cared about a rich man's grudge against a girl who couldn't even defend herself against him.

She would have retribution. But not because of God, and not because of him. The only reason she would have justice was because a stupid man had slipped up. Phillipe could have gotten away with his crime. It was wrong to sweep these children under the rug and let them suffer. But what could he do?

He was only one man.


	12. Chapter 12

Shiver

I appreciate all of the reviews. However, ladies and gentlemen, I believe this story is reaching its end. I hope I have done it justice. Stay tuned for my next works. I am doing a collaboration with potophan1010. The account is called RuinsTheSheen. Check it out.

* * *

"-Yet it would be your duty to bear it, if you could not avoid it: It is weak and silly to say you **_cannot bear_** what it is your fate to be required to bear."-Helen Burns, Jane Eyre

* * *

Christine didn't speak much, those two months in that dark hole. Or at least that is what she called it. She refused to speak with Erik, refused to eat most everything, and refused to be civil. He had only left once, about three weeks after their entombment, and she had attempted escape.

Of course that hadn't worked out as well as she had hoped. When Erik had returned, his temper riled for some damn reason, he had handcuffed her to a support beam. She had horrible flashes of memories, but he refused to unchain her. She had heard nothing but the sound of her own tears for the longest time. She had never felt more lost.

He was heartless. He refused to coddle her in her mindless tears. His past was just as bloody, and he wasn't a weeping mass of nothing. He didn't know why he loved her, why he refused to let her leave him. He didn't even know what love was.

He did know that Christine was his. She showed him with every gesture, with every jaded smirk and crude comment. She showed him how proud she could be, refusing to speak to the man who murdered her "lover". It wasn't in him to let her leave. He decided to go with his favorite way of handling things, pretend there wasn't a problem.

When he read about the conviction of Phillipe Chagny and Antoinette Giry for Christine's rape and torture, he had every intention of going out and killing them both. He had thrown the laptop across the room, listening to the sound of crunching technology.

But when he had gotten there, he realized he didn't wan to kill them. They deserved to suffer like she had suffered. Though he had only been imprisoned once, he knew the terror of a cage. Let them rot there, until the jury decided to slaughter them like the miserable cattle they were.

He hadn't expected to come back to see Christine halfway out of the secure door. She had used her hearing and her hairpins against him, apparently. He couldn't help punishing her. She deserved it. How dare she betray his trust twice? Her being with other men was disgusting, and her attempting escape damn near threw him over the edge.

He had been in a dark place that day. Instead of her tears filling him with pity, they made him smile. A smile he had not seen for years. It fed on people's suffering. He thought that phase of his life to be over. After all, he ruled death. It was as much a part of him as breathing was.

He delivered it without ceremony, and forgot about it. He had not killed in pure emotional fury until that night two months ago. She made him react that way. He thought those days were long over.

He had decided to move again. It was the time. Food was low, and a little relocation would be simple, if he did it right.

He had made her eat that day, though she didn't acknowledge his existence. He made her use the bathroom, and watched her shower. Well, watched was a strong word. More like glanced. He allowed her a razor that was damn near impossible to cut things with. But he would not leave her alone again, ever.

He had come to the difficult decision. In all his years, he had never even considered plastic surgery an option. His deathlike appearance had been his way of life, and no matter how he tried, he had never been able to summon up enough courage.

But if that was what it took to keep her, he would. He would suffer the scrutiny of the men staring at him. He had documentation and money. No man knew what he looked like under the mask. Well, no man who had lived.

He had waited till she was asleep, unwrapping the sterile needle. He injected her quickly, making sure to use enough to keep her in deep slumber overnight at least. He would be in intense pain when he returned. But he would bear it. Handcuffing her to the support beam, he took his leave.

(The next morning, after intense surgery)

Erik was glad for the wrappings covering his face. The doctors assured him there was little to no scarring, and that he was doing just fine. He felt like someone had shot him though. Christine had still been sleeping, not even feeling him remove the cuffs.

He knew the deformity was still there. Maybe not on the surface, but it was still lurking, haunting him. It always would. For his soul was just as twisted, just as wrong. He had hurt this girl, killed for her, and loved her the whole time. She didn't want to love him, any more then he wanted to love her.

It seemed the two didn't have a choice in the matter. He had explained that to her a long time ago, when they had been first here, in this dank hole. All he needed was to heal. Then she would be his, his forever.

* * *

Raoul was filled with a sense of loss he didn't know how to get rid of. His brother was gone now. Christine Daae had managed to strip away the last of his family from his side. What was it about the girl that made her wreak havoc? He didn't care whether she lived or not. He hoped Bathory tore her limb from limb!

So, when Raoul went to pick up a mutual friend from the plastic surgery centre, he hadn't expected to find Bathory. He heard the doctor tell the man that a surgery was routine. Oh, the possibilities...

Raoul had followed the man, with the aid of an undercover police officer, to his little den. They waited until nightfall, busting in the door and capturing the couple. Erik had struggled fiercely, yelling for Christine, who seemed to be quite groggy. She had only heard the soft murmur of his deep voice upon the wind.

She had awakened to Carlotta's voice. How she wished she could be here again, so many times. The place where all the madness had started. The police questioned her about Erik. She had told them nothing of Nadir; she didn't want the man to be punished for something she had wanted.

"Miss Daae, did Mr. Bathory kill Reza Khan that night?"

She had flinched at the question. She had screamed and raged over Reza's death for such a long time, she had to go back, look at the details. She decided then, decided what she would do. This was the point it all came down to.

"No. Mr. Anders._** I**_ killed Reza."

They had asked her to elaborate, and she told them of the involvement she had with the boy. Told them that she hadn't known he had cancer, that when he told her, she had gotten angry. After all, she loved him. She was always alone.

She told them she had accidentally pushed the boy down the stairs. They believed her, and soon afterward, she went to trial. Erik was charged with accessory to murder. She was charged with murder in the second degree. She **HAD** killed Reza. Her love, she had given it to him, and sent him to his death.

* * *

At least prison was cozy. They kept her confined, her blindness making her the perfect inmate for a second rate ladies facility. After all, how would she escape? She was left alone, even the guards disliking her soulless eyes.

She had realized, sitting in the cold cell, that she would always belong to Erik Bathory. This man who she would save, just because he had saved her. He would be confined to a minimum security prison for two years, while she would be there ten. It didn't matter though.

He was always watching her, always there in her mind. Even though she could never say she had lain with him in a bed, or embraced him unless under duress, she would still love him. The love she hadn't shared with Nadir, or Reza, a love that was deeper the flesh, and deeper then hatred.

* * *

She had not received mail, in the five years she had been imprisoned so far. After all, she couldn't read anything unless the guards would oblige her. So when she received a letter, that day on the twenty first of March, she opened it. She felt the hard pressed Braille, and tried to remember all of the word formations.

Going slowly, she read. It was short, but the promise in it left her reeling. She fingered the hair, the hair she had promised her father she would never cut. The hair that he had adored. She had been devastated when it was shorn off by Giry. She had known happiness that day, but this was more then she felt she needed.

This left her heart a little less heavy. It was signed simply "Bathory."

* * *

She reread it for the four years she had left of her term, the parole board granting her freedom in her tenth. She had stood there, fingering what looked to be yellowed computer paper.

When she was released, she dropped it on the gravel walking out. An older guard, who had watched the girl for years now, picked it up. Curious as to what had kept the little brunette going for so long. He read the lines of what seemed to be a song.

_'Thought it was too good to be true_

_I found somebody who understands me._

_Someone who would help me to get through_

_And fill an emptiness I had inside me._

_But you kept inside and I just denied_

_Some things that we should have both said._

_I knew it was too good to be true_

_Cause I'm the only one who understands me._

_But I need you_

_You know me like I know my face._

_You see the cold and embrace the dark.'_

_**Bathory.**_

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* * *

****

**_letthedreamdescend:_** Thank you for the review. Your answer is in the chapter.

**_Erik'DarkLullaby:_** I hope you like my ending. I have no idea what happened after she left the prison that day. I hope she found him, though.

_**The Century Child: **_I am glad you liked the Phillipe twist. I hate that guy.

_**potophan1010:**_ Thank you with the song help, and all the editing you help me with. I added a little bit to the song though, I hope you don't mind.

_**Dove of Night:**_ I am glad you like the Darius thing, lol! I was hoping to incorporate him somehow. Thank you for the great reviews.

_**phantomann**:_ Nah, you weren't on the flame list, lol. I don't really mind about them anymore, I actually laughed at a few today. I am glad you enjoy my writings. I already have another lined up.

Thank you all for reading this through to the end. I am hoping you realize the meaning of the story. That the definitions of redeption are all different, that some stories don't end happily. That some things are up to fate.


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